Bound in Stone 3

by K. M. Frontain

  “I know what you mean! And you can’t! The angel said it was perilous to mention.”

  “Fuck us all!” Vik spat, frustrated elder brother of a reincarnated divine being. “Damn that angel for not saying!”

  “Shit, Vik! They’re called the faceless gods because they don’t tell us squat!” the king snarled. He grabbed the man’s truncated arm and pulled him the rest of the way down to the second ward. “Your brother is no better than the rest of them! Gods busted little liar!”

  “Ugoth! He doesn’t know!”

  “No! He’s just waggling his little human butt around and tearing up my heart for nothing.”

  “Ugoth! You seduced him!”

  Ugoth pinched Vik’s arm hard enough to make him wince. “You said Nicky couldn’t resist him. Neither could I. I almost cut his balls off, Vik! Instead I buggered him. And I prefer women!”

  They had reached the lower ward. The monks waiting for them stared in surprise. Ugoth lowered his voice and pulled Vik further down.

  “And that angel was no easier to resist. Gods!” He realised what he’d just cursed and swore it again. “Gods!” He released Vik and pulled his sword. “I’ve got to kill something!”

  He stalked down toward the front. Vik gaped after him and then hurried to catch up. He overheard the king hiss that he wasn’t going to play sweet little boy for anyone, let alone some amnesiac runt of a god who could frighten all creation. At this point, Vik decided he’d best shut the hells up.

  ***

  He stared at the distant battle and he wondered why he stood there waiting. He could be doing something. He should be doing something, but he couldn’t think what. A great confusion, like a heavy, knotted log, was tucked into his head in place of a mind.

  Up on the mount, a massive blackness layered the crown of the long hill. The man he’d saved was up there, Tehlm Sevet, the slave of the Great Mother. He wanted to be with him. He didn’t know why exactly. There had been something compelling about him, a sense of belonging so profound it went beyond words, beyond thought; but Sevet was up there, hidden in the black and cut off from him, and that felt very wrong.

  He lowered his eyes to the battle again. He should go. He should find someone to help, to heal, to—

  “Beautiful one,” a female voice said.

  He turned. A tall cadaverous woman approached. Shadows blackened her eyes. He backed off.

  “Don’t run, my love,” the hag said sweetly. “I need you. Come to me.”

  “No. You...? I know you!”

  “I am your wife,” she crooned. “You are my husband. Come to me! Come!”

  There was something compelling about her too, something that smelled of a desperate sweetness, like fruit fermenting into wine. And beneath the cloying odour, a poisonous rot fit to numb body and soul.

  “No! You! You hurt me!”

  “Not this time,” she promised. She stepped forward. The unseen cloud of her power was an indelible touch on his skin, familiar, tempting despite the hint of death beneath. Wine and decay. One couldn’t be had without the other. The intoxication before the fall into darkness; that was bliss.

  “Come to me. I need your help. I must end this battle.”

  “End it?” he repeated, hesitating. “End it how?”

  “It is time for the angel to be bound. Help me!”

  He stiffened with rejection. “You want to bind an angel? No! Go away!”

  Anger precipitated from out of the cloud of sweetness. “You will obey!”

  He turned and ran.

  “Come back!” she bellowed.

  Shadows rose ahead of him. He leapt over the blackness and thudded to the earth beyond. A short ugly woman stepped out from a tent. Her eyes bled darkness. He skidded to a halt, an arm rising against her. She stank abominably.

  “I must have this angel!” she said. “He will pave the way! The rest will follow after him! Our children will return!”

  “Children!” He gaped at her. “What children?”

  And then he was off again. He darted through a field of darkness and tumbled to the ground. He looked up to discover another female figure approaching, a tiny, slender one. “No!”

  “Kehfrey!” the woman yelped. “Kehfrey! Hurry! I have to get you out of here!”

  His gaze rose until they fixed on her face. She was beautiful. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her irises were a vivid green, the whites completely clear of black power.

  “Hurry!” she cried.

  “My legs are frozen!”

  “Oh!” She bent, grabbed a dagger from one of his sheaths and stabbed him in the bottom. He yelped and jumped up, startled more by her action than by the pain. He didn’t quite feel that yet.

  “Move!” she screamed. “They’re coming!” She grabbed his hand and ran.

  “Where are we going?” he yelled. And why was he following when she’d just stuck him in the butt? Gods, she was gorgeous. What a perfect little bottom.

  Reason enough.

  “To a safe path!” she answered. “Just a little further! When he moved the tents back, he didn’t seal these off.”

  “Who are you talking about?”

  “Marun! What is wrong with you?”

  “I don’t know anything!” He swerved. A shadow had leapt out of a tent at him. His side went numb. He lost his balance and rolled.

  “Keep running!” she shouted. He lifted himself and limped forward. “Kehfrey! Move your ass!”

  She stabbed him again. He bleated and ran quicker. They thudded onward for several frantic seconds; then she halted abruptly.

  “Stop! You’ve passed it! Come back!”

  He faced about. “What? I don’t see anything.”

  She lunged forward, grabbed his hand and dragged him back. “Don’t let me go!”

  She stepped into nothing. Unutterably surprised, he watched her body sink into nowhere and then watched her hand pull him forward into the nowhere. Behind him, the hags screamed. Their shadows licked his feet. His legs lost sensation. With last of his strength, he leapt.

  “Get up!” she screamed.

  He lay on a strange path. A darting blackness opened and shut beneath him, revealing eerie, menacing landscapes below. These bizarre sights were uncannily familiar, but at least not seductive like the black of the entity from which he’d escaped within the real.

  “Get up!” the woman shouted again. Even as he gaped in amazement, she dragged him determinedly. “We cannot stop on an elven path! To do so invites worse than death! Stop looking and walk!”

  “I’ll crawl!” he shouted. “The shadows got my legs before I leapt!” He used his free arm to move forward. “Don’t you stab me again, woman! I won’t take it thrice!”

  “Then move!”

  She dropped his arm, and he crawled forward resolutely. She gulped a steadying breath inward. Her small feet popped up and down though she made little progress. Somehow the solid slats of the path jumped beneath each step, no matter where placed, and his hands smacked down on solidity no matter what vista he looked upon beforehand. Odd. How very odd.

  “I dropped the dagger in any case,” she told him. “It’s gone to a hell.”

  “That’s very familiar down there,” he remarked as a grey mountainous wasteland slipped past.

  “Don’t look at it! Just keep moving! It doesn’t matter how fast, so long as you don’t stop. The path is always there when the foot first falls. It isn’t if you stay still!”

  “I understand. Stop panicking. I think I can feel one of my feet.”

  He used his next shove forward to lift himself. He proceeded to hop. She slipped under his arm to keep him steady.

  “What did you mean you don’t know anything?”

  She smelled of perfume. It was strong on her. He found himself growing aroused despite it. Or perhaps because of it. “Who are you?”

  “What? You don’t know?”

  “I don’t know,” he affirmed. “I feel as if the shadows sank into my head.”
>
  “They probably did!” she said. “That bastard!”

  “Is it this Marun you are referring to?”

  “Yes! Him!”

  “You’re very beautiful. Why are you helping me?”

  She gaped up at him. “I love you, you idiot!”

  “Oh! Aren’t I lucky? And how many times would you have stabbed me if you didn’t love me?”

  He grinned down at her, hopping forward like a silly boy. She smiled and proclaimed her affection again, adding that she wouldn’t have bothered stabbing him if she didn’t love him, for the simple reason that she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. Smiling more softly, he dipped his head toward her. She jerked hers back.

  “Keep moving! Or I’ll pinch your ass where you’re bleeding!”

  He perforce behaved himself and attempted the use of his other foot. It held his weight. He continued forward with a small limp, his gaze scanning the upper areas of the strange path. It seemed a corridor that continued forever, a translucent tunnel of a purplish hue. To the side, beyond the violet wall, he perceived a landscape. Trees waved in a wind that did not touch his face. Beautiful flowers decorated the limbs.

  “I know what those smell like.”

  “Kehfrey? What are you on about now?”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Hanicke. Only you call me Nicky.”

  “Nicky,” he repeated. “I love you, Nicky.”

  “You don’t even remember me,” she pointed out wryly.

  He looked away from a strange floating object that had appeared outside of the corridor and peered down at her instead. “It was love at first sight. I bet it was the same the first time too.”

  She smiled, but also scoffed. “You were seven years old.”

  “Was I? Was I any good?”

  She laughed. “Kehfrey! You great tease! We were friends until just a few months ago.”

  “Gods! I’m an idiot! Why did I waste all that time?”

  “Oh, Kehfrey!” she said, suddenly sad. “Maybe you shouldn’t remember.”

  He frowned in confusion. After a moment, seeing that she wouldn’t speak further, he looked back at the floater. “What’s with the multiple leg ball?”

  “What?”

  “That thing over there?” He pointed.

  “That’s a big pink fuzzy ball.”

  “It’s a ball of legs,” he insisted.

  “It is not,” she said with assurance. “It’s a fuzzy ball.”

  “You have got to be blind.”

  “No. You are.”

  “I see legs. You can’t.”

  “I see a pink ball. You can’t.”

  He laughed. “Fine. I’ll be blind and stupid and just love you anyway.”

  She didn’t reply, and he looked down to determine why. He discovered that she endeavoured not to weep. Tears threatened to spill from luminous green eyes. She wiped the liquid clear as he watched.

  “Don’t cry!” he pleaded. “I’ll stop teasing.”

  “No. You keep on teasing. It’s better to laugh.” She jerked him toward the side suddenly. “Here! We get out here.”

  “Where?”

  She pulled him without answering, and they stepped back into the world.

  “Oh!” he cried. They were on a rise off to the side of the one they had just been on. The armies fought in the distance. He had a different view of darkness smothering the crown of the hill, a longer, more awe-inspiring one. The black cloud was immense, a mountain overtop a mountain. Even as he watched, it appeared to discharge a blue flash and then engulf a level lower down.

  “That bastard!” Nicky said. “I hate him! I hope he ends up in one of the hells!”

  His gaze jerked down to her. “Him? Marun? Is he the one on the crown of the hill?”

  “Yes!” she spat.

  He turned away quickly. His heart thundered in his chest. Something was wrong! Something was very wrong! “I need to do something, but I don’t know what.”

  “You stay here,” she said. “You can’t go back to that. If you do, the witches will get you again.” She tugged at his arm. “Sit. There’s nothing we can do now. We wait.”

  “For what?” he cried. “Something is going to happen! Something I don’t want! I just can’t remember what!”

  “Kehfrey! There’s nothing you can do!”

  He pulled free of her grip, shaking his head desperately. “I’ve got to go!” He backed off.

  “No! Kehfrey! Please! Don’t go there! He’ll use you! He’ll use you again!”

  He faltered. “Tell me what I don’t know! You know! I know you do!”

  She shook her head. “I can’t, Kehfrey! I won’t! Not until it’s done!”

  He cried out in frustration and then leapt forward. He grabbed her and crushed her mouth with his. He groaned against her lips. She was so good! She tasted so good! He wanted to kiss her forever. He released her and ran.

  “Kehfrey!” she screamed. “No! Kehfrey!”

  He firmed his resolve and leapt down the hill faster. Something was going to happen, and he needed to stop it.

  ***

  Pull harder!

  “I am! You wanted shadow! I’m pulling it for you!”

  Drive the gryphon king down toward the Stohar blades! Drive him until he has nowhere to run!

  Marun snarled. He was but her servant, her slave, her tool, a lodestone to attract more of the blackness dammed inside her core. He lifted his arms and willed the shadows to leap higher. He drove the black power downward with all his force and he felt something give in the distance. He sensed more ghouls rise to his call.

  You have done it! The third ward has broken! They die! They come into me!

  “Bitch!” he screamed. “Evil bitch!”

  She laughed derision and exultation at him. Go! Go down there! Go!

  “I cannot pull this much shadow if I leave the conduit!”

  Go! The angel comes again! This time, trap him!

  “Trap him?”

  Yes! Hear me! Hear my words, Tehlm Sevet! Bind the angel to this plane!

  He stalked down the hill, listening as she whispered her instructions

  ***

  “The upper ward has collapsed!” Vik shouted.

  Ugoth looked up in time to see the shadows swell over the few monks remaining to keep the barrier in place. “Gods!” he whispered.

  An arrow whizzed past his head.

  “Keep down, Majesty!” a soldier shouted. “The first ward has fallen!”

  The ward in front had indeed collapsed. Arrows rained down freely upon his forces. Ugoth focused on the distant crest where the enemy encampment spread. The circle of hags had finished their casting. They scattered even as he watched, heading in different directions, running, fleeing, even flying. None approached the battle.

  “The hags are leaving,” he said. “Why?”

  Why would they abandon Marun now? He was winning!

  Another arrow flicked by. A gasp sounded behind Ugoth. He whirled toward Herfod’s brother. “Vik!”

  He had taken one in the gut. “Shit!” Vik croaked, tumbling backward onto his seat.

  Ugoth knelt and touched the fletching in horror. The arrow had pierced through to Vik’s back. “Don’t move it, Vik!” Ugoth said urgently. “Wait until a monk comes to heal you!”

  “I’m not touching it!” Vik answered and then passed out on the earth.

  “Oh, gods!” Ugoth said. “Don’t let Vik die!”

  Something hit him in the back. He looked down in surprise. An arrow had punctured his body. The head poked out of his abdomen through the chain mail. He laughed at the irony.

  Herfod’s ward erupted over him. The pain in his gut eased slightly. He bent despite the ache and clutched Vik with both hands. The soldier protecting them died as another shaft hit him in the throat. Ugoth ignored the man’s death throws. His gaze fixed desperately on Vik. Under the pressure of Ugoth’s will, Herfod’s aura spread until the unconscious brother glowed beneath Ugoth’s han
ds.

  “Vik!” Ugoth snapped the fletching off and lifted him. He reached around and hauled the shaft out of Vik’s back by the arrowhead. Vik awakened and screamed. The azure brightened over him. “Heal!” Ugoth breathed. “Heal!”

  Vik shuddered and clutched at him. “Gods!” He stared at the king in surprise. Then he saw the arrow in Ugoth’s body. “Oh, no!” he whispered.

  Out of the darkness above, two glowing figures descended. “I’ll take Vik,” Abbot Vehre said sharply. “You take Ugoth!”

  Keth shoved his killing rods in their sling, lifted the king and started toward the lowest wall.

  Vehre snatched at Vik. “Get up!” He pulled Vik to his feet. “We’re in the open here! Go!” He dragged him off. They passed in front of Keth quickly.

  “You have an arrow in your gut, Majesty,” Keth remarked.

  “Really? I though it was fly bite. Put me down! I can run!”

  Keth laughed nervously and continued to haul him down the hill. He stumbled as an arrow flashed past his shoulder.

  “Hurry up, Keth!” Vehre’s voice drifted back.

  “Gods!” Keth said hoarsely. “You don’t have to carry someone! And he’s in armour!”

  A small rocky outcrop lay to their left. He changed direction and lowered the king to the earth behind the meagre shelter. Ugoth still glowed. Keth knew this must be because of the injury. His hand settled on the arrow. Just before he broke the fletching off, a bolt whizzed past his head.

  “Get down!” Ugoth snapped. The rocks were hardly adequate cover. The lowest wall was further down. “We need to get to the wall! Get going!”

  “I can’t leave you wounded!” Keth protested. “You glow too brightly!”

  “Move!” Ugoth barked. “I can run still!” To prove it, he lifted himself and sped down the hill. Keth’s boots thudded behind, but then a shout of pain sounded. Ugoth faltered, turned and saw him stumbling with an arrow in his leg.

  “Get back behind that rock!” Ugoth rushed back and pulled the young monk to shelter. He shoved Keth behind the outcrop. It was scanty cover, but better than nothing.