Quest's End: The Broken Key #3

by Brian S. Pratt

  A final flash was followed by a second wave of energy traveling outward through the segments. The second wave ripped their fingers free and hit the four of them like a mule. Bart hit the wall hard and seemed to hang there for a moment before sagging down to the floorboards unconscious. The other three lay unmoving on the floor.

  Seth hurried to Riyan’s side. The rise and fall of his chest showed that he still lived. “Riyan!” he shouted as he raised Riyan’s head from the floor. Gently slapping his face, Seth tried to revive him to no avail.

  Chyfe and Soth rushed to Bart and Kevik respectfully, neither having any luck in bringing them around. At least they still lived.

  “Lay them on the bed,” Seth said, as he lifted Riyan from the floor. Carrying him over to the bed, he laid him gently down. Reaching for the hand that had been in contact with the key, he held it up and saw where two of his fingers had been horribly burned. Layers of skin were missing, and the beginnings of fluid filled blisters sprouted around the outer edges of the wound.

  First Bart, then Chad and Kevik were placed next to him on the bed. Their fingers showed the same level of damage as did Riyan’s. “Get the ruby,” suggested Seth.

  Soth nodded and began searching Kevik’s pouches. When he found it, he began with Kevik. Holding the magic user’s hand in his, he placed the ruby near the burned areas and concentrated on healing. When the light from the ruby appeared, they saw the edges of the burned areas begin to heal.

  “What happened to them?” asked Chyfe.

  Soth shrugged. “I don’t know,” he replied. Glancing over to the table, he saw a wisp of smoke rising from where the circular key sat. “Seth,” he said, directing his brother toward the key.

  Seeing the wisp of smoke, Seth went to take a look. “It burnt the table,” he said. Holding his hand above the key, he could still feel heat radiating out from it. Drawing his knife, he moved the point to where the key met the wood. He was going to try and pry it out of the tabletop.

  “Don’t,” cautioned Chyfe.

  Seth paused with his knife’s point a mere half an inch from the key as he looked over to him.

  “Let’s wait for Kevik to come around,” Chyfe said. “He’ll know better what to do.”

  Seth glanced to his brother and saw him nod. Replacing his knife back in its scabbard, he said, “Very well.”

  One by one they healed the burned areas on their friend’s fingers. When the last had been healed and the gem grew quiet, Soth retuned it to Kevik’s pouch. Getting up from the bed, he went over to the table to look at the key for himself.

  “Damn,” he said in awe. The wood around both the inner and outer edges was blackened.

  Standing next to him, his brother nodded. “I could use a drink,” he said. “I’ll go down and bring up a pitcher.”

  “And some food too,” suggested Chyfe.

  “Alright,” agreed Seth. “Be right back.

  While Seth was downstairs procuring sustenance and drink, Soth and Chyfe kept watch on the four lying upon the bed. Other than the rise and fall of their chests, it didn’t look as if they were alive.

  Chad was the first to awaken. Groaning, he lifted his head and looked around. Lying next to him on the bed was Riyan. Lifting his head still further revealed Kevik and Bart lying on the other side of Riyan. A single candle burned on the table, around which Chyfe and the twins were asleep in chairs.

  Getting up, he sat on the edge of the bed. A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes and the room was spinning. He felt as if he was going to pass out. Closing his eyes and taking a few deep, steady breaths, he brought himself back from the brink of unconsciousness.

  The creak of a floorboard broke the stillness of the room. Opening his eyes once again, he turned to see Chyfe moving from the table toward him. The room hadn’t settled down yet, but it was better.

  “How are you doing?” Chyfe asked quietly so as not to awaken the others.

  Moving his hand to press against his forehead in an attempt to alleviate the pain, he stopped when his fingers came into view. A remembered pain came to him, though the flesh of his fingers was pink and whole.

  “They were burnt pretty badly,” Chyfe told him. “We used Kevik’s gem to heal them.”

  He remembered moving his segment toward the others. After that his memory grew a bit blurry. “What happened?” he asked.

  “Not exactly sure to tell you the truth,” replied Chyfe.

  The sound of a chair sliding across the floor announced Seth standing up and coming to join them.

  “Why don’t we help you to the table,” suggested Chyfe. “You could probably use some food.”

  Chad nodded. Coming to his feet, he staggered a bit as the room once again began swimming in earnest. Chyfe reached out and caught him before he could fall back onto the bed. “You better give me a hand,” Chad suggested. Seth came next to him to help as well, and together, he and Chyfe supported Chad over to the table.

  Soth awoke by the time he had made it to the table and sat down. “Good to see you awake,” he said to Chad.

  Ignoring the greeting, Chad’s eyes were riveted to the circular key sitting on the tabletop. The sight of the charred area around it prompted him to once again look at his fingers.

  “As far as we can tell,” Seth told him as he poured Chad a mug of ale, “it’s been reforged.” He then handed the cup to Chad who took it with a shaky hand.

  Downing the ale, Chad noticed that the sigil inscribed side of the key was facing up. Where the segments had forged together was seamless. As he reached his hand out to touch the key, Seth grabbed his forearm and stopped him.

  “We thought it might be wise to wait for Kevik,” Seth explained.

  From the bed, Kevik said, “Probably a wise precaution.”

  The four at the table turned to see him propped up on one elbow looking in their direction. Beside him, Bart and Riyan had also begun to stir.

  “About time you layabouts awoke,” Seth said with a grin. Coming over to the bed, he and his brother helped them over to the table. Each were as weak and unstable as Chad had been.

  As Kevik took his seat at the table, he reached out his hand toward the key, but stopped before actually coming into contact. “Amazing,” he said.

  Riyan was the last to the table. “Is it whole?” he asked.

  “It would appear so,” replied Kevik.

  “You guys had us worried,” Soth explained. “You’ve been out for hours.”

  Kevik nodded. “Not surprising,” he said. “Especially considering the amount of magical energies we were exposed to.” Hesitantly, he brought his forefinger into contact with the metal of the key. Emboldened when nothing happened, he began tracing various sigils inscribed upon its surface. “It’s cool.” Glancing to the others, he said, “It should be safe to handle now.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Chyfe. Turning to Kevik, he wore a dubious expression.

  “Not completely, no,” he replied. “But I can’t imagine it would be dangerous. Now that the four segments are together again.” He tried getting his thumbnail under the edge to lift it up, but found it to be sunk into the table.

  Seth saw his dilemma and produced his knife. At which point, he worked the knife’s point under the edge and pried it up. When the key came free, they discovered the area beneath it was charred beyond recognition. In fact, the key itself had sunk a quarter inch into the surface of the table. Taking hold of the key, he flipped it over and they could see the map on the other side.

  “Look,” Riyan said, pointing to the section of the map on the back of the key they took from the River Man. A small star was set on the eastern side of a range of mountains. “It shows where we found the King.” From this, anyone with a working knowledge of the area around Quillim would recognize it as being in the area.

  “If there were any doubts about what we found was in truth the King’s Horde, I think this cinches it,” Chad said.

  Riyan nodded. Reaching out, he picked up the key and held it before
him. “With this, we can open the Horde,” he announced. Silently he added, And change the mind of Freya’s father!

  The following morning as the companions began their trek to Quillim for fame and fortune, a group of riders made their way along a narrow trail high above a deep canyon in the Tinderlock Mountains.

  Burdy, a trapper and hunter who knew these mountains better than the face of the woman he once loved, rode at the fore. Behind him came Erz, an amusing if at times irritating man, and another rider whose name he had never been told. Though it didn’t take a fool to recognize the man as being a Tribesman. Add that to the fact he wore Orack colors and was addressed as ‘milord’, he had to be someone of great importance.

  As he led them along a narrow, icy trail high in the mountains, Burdy thought about what it meant that such a man would take this route at this time of year. It couldn’t be for any upright and honorable reason. With the troubles that have been developing between the two nations, Burdy figured him as a spy of some sort. If he hadn’t of been a noble, perhaps even a saboteur.

  Either way, Burdy really didn’t care. What nations did to one another was none of his concern. He kept to his mountains and no one bothered him except when they wanted him to lead them through the passes as was the case now. Though he had never done so for such a one as rode behind him now.

  “How much further is it?” asked Erz for the hundredth time.

  Burdy glanced back with a grin. “Not far,” he replied. Turning back, he pointed to where their trail rounded an outcropping of rock two hundred feet ahead. “We’re almost out of the mountains. Once we reach that point, you’ll be able to see the foothills below. You’ll be able to make your way on your own from there.”

  “Excellent,” Erz said.

  The one who rode beside him remained quiet.

  As they drew closer to the outcropping, Burdy turned his head back to those behind him and said, “I’ll go check to make sure a snow drift doesn’t block our way.”

  Erz nodded and shooed him on.

  Burdy nudged his horse in the sides and quickened his pace.

  Lord Kueryn silently raised his hand with fingers spread wide, then quickly brought them together to from a fist. Immediately, two of his men moved to follow Burdy.

  Erz looked questioningly to the lord as the two men rode past, but received no reply. Up ahead he watched as Burdy reached the outcropping and rode out of sight around it. The two riders quickened their pace.

  “What are they doing?” Erz finally asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

  Lord Kueryn glanced to Erz and said, “No one can know we came this way.”

  “But…” Erz said then grew quiet when he saw the eyes of the lord turn to him. “I understand.”

  Turning his gaze back to where his two riders were disappearing around the outcropping, Lord Kueryn rode on.

  It seemed his men had only just disappeared past the outcropping when one reemerged and returned quickly. “My lord,” the rider said as he came to Lord Kueryn.

  “Is it done?” he asked.

  “He’s gone!” the rider exclaimed.

  “Gone?” responded Lord Kueryn.

  “Yes my lord,” the rider replied. “When we rounded the outcropping, his horse was there, but he wasn’t.”

  “Idiots!” shouted Lord Kueryn. “Lord Hurrin,” he said as he turned to where the lord rode. “Send your men out to find him. We cannot let him escape.”

  “As you wish,” Lord Hurrin replied. In a moment, riders were thundering up the trail toward the outcropping in search of the hunter.

  “I don’t think we have much to worry about from him,” Erz assured him. “He cares nothing for others, only his mountains.”

  Lord Kueryn ignored him.

  When they reached the outcropping, they found the narrow trail they had been following opened up onto a gently downward sloping hillside. The panoramic view was breathtaking as it seemed the entire world opened up below them. Far below, a road wended its way through the hills as it moved east to west.

  Men were combing the hillside and the upper reaches of the outcropping. “My lord,” one man said as he approached them. “He’s vanished!”

  “Nonsense,” replied Lord Hurrin. “He couldn’t have just up and disappeared.”

  “But he has,” the man replied. “We’ve searched everywhere.”

  Then, from high atop the outcropping above them, laughter rang forth. “I thought you might try something like this!” The silhouette of the hunter Burdy was easily recognized.

  “How did he get up there so fast?” questioned Erz.

  “Kill him,” Lord Kueryn said to his magic user.

  “Yes my lord,” replied Geffen. Raising his staff high, he began speaking arcane words of magic. As the words were spoken, the temperature around him began dropping fast. What had been merely cold now grew to be bitterly cold, and still the temperature dropped. Then when the last word was spoken, it seemed as if spears of ice shot forth toward the hunter.

  Even as the first spear shot forth, Burdy leapt from the outcropping and disappeared behind it.

  More arcane words issued forth as the spears of ice arced several feet above the outcropping, then began moving down the other side in pursuit.

  The ground began to shake as Geffen continued speaking. Then, when the last word rolled off his lips, there was a final, massive movement of the ground. Those men still on the outcropping leaped for their lives.

  Crack!

  The outcropping broke from the mountain, crumbling into hundreds of smaller rocks, some quite large. With a roar, they began rolling and sliding in the direction Burdy had fled.

  Erz stood transfixed as he watched what once had been a massive, single piece of rock, disintegrate before his eyes.

  When the rumbling finally ceased, they went and stood at the edge. In the canyon below, they saw the path of destruction wrought by the landslide. The trail they had been following was gone. Nothing could have lived through such destruction.

  “Very good,” Lord Kueryn said to Geffen.

  Geffen gave him a slight bow. “Thank you my lord,” he replied.

  “Now,” he said as he turned toward Erz, “there is just one more loose end to deal with before we depart.”

  “What would that…?” he began, then saw Lord Kueryn draw his sword. “No!” he screamed as the lord’s intention became clear. Striking quick and true, Lord Kueryn’s sword sliced through his neck, severing the head from the body. Sliding from his horse, Erz’s torso fell to the ground.

  Producing a cloth, Lord Kueryn cleaned the blood from his blade. Once cleaned, he tossed the cloth to the ground where it landed on Erz’s headless torso. Resheathing his blade, he turned to Lord Hurrin. “Let’s go.” As the riders returned to their horses and made ready to get underway, Lord Hurrin sent several down the slope to scout ahead.

  Next to Lord Kueryn, Geffen produced the dart with which he had been struck back in Hylith. Casting a locater spell, he had the dart point to its previous owner’s current position. Moving on his palm, the dart indicated him to be almost due east. Exactly how far couldn’t be determined.

  “Excellent,” said Lord Kueryn as he saw the dart pointing the way. Nudging his horse into motion, he and the others began making their way from the mountains to the hills below.

  “One of the scouts returns,” Lord Hurrin announced. Now two hours from where the body of Erz lay, they were making their way through the low lying hills on the north side of the Tinderlock Mountains. They had to be careful as they were completely in Byrdlon territory now.

  Turning toward the oncoming rider, Lord Kueryn brought them to a halt and waited for the approach of the rider.

  “My lord,” the rider said once he drew near. “Riders to the north.”

  “How many?” Lord Hurrin asked.

  “At least a score,” the scout replied. Pausing only a moment, he added, “They wear the uniform of Byrdlon.”

  “Are they aware of our presence?
” asked Lord Kueryn.

  Just then, they saw the soldiers of which the scout spoke cresting a hill to the north. It was clear they were heading straight for them.

  “I believe so my lord,” the scout said.

  Lord Kueryn remained where he was and watched them approach. As the scout had said, they wore the uniforms of Byrdlon. A murmur began running through his men as the soldiers approached which he quickly squelched.

  When the soldiers drew near, they slowed then came to a stop. One rider with red hair and a scar across the bridge of his nose continued forward. A captain by the insignia he wore, he came to within two yards of Lord Kueryn before stopping.

  “I was getting worried my lord,” Captain Lyrun said.

  “There’s been a change in plans,” Lord Kueryn replied.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  __________________________

  In an inn some miles south of Wardean, seven men took their ease in the common room. The Twin Oaks wasn’t what one would call a fashionable establishment or even above average, but for a roadside inn it was adequate. The lone girl who saw to their needs was quite the chatterbox. Any little comment set her off.

  At the moment, she was regaling the men with local gossip as she occupied what had been an empty chair at their table. “…given the number of people who have spoken of the King’s Horde having been found, I’d say it was true. Though of course I haven’t actually seen it myself, being stuck here…er, I mean, having the privilege of serving such wonderful gentlemen as yourselves.”

  “You said there were troubles in Quillim?” asked Riyan. They had heard disquieting rumors from different people during the last couple days, and he was quite concerned about his mother, Freya, and all the other people he grew up with.

  “Troubles?” she asked. “I heard that all manner of men have been drawn to the area, most being those who you wouldn’t want to run into on a dark night let me tell you. But since Duke Alric sent soldiers to the area, things have quieted down. In fact, though I don’t know because I haven’t actually been there, or anywhere else for that matter, I even heard that before the Duke’s men arrived, several of the buildings, including the mill, had been destroyed.”