The Legacy (The Darkness Within Saga Book 1)

by JD Franx

  The first feathered dart struck Alia in the back of the neck only a split second before a second dart struck Princess Corleya with unerring accuracy in the exact same spot. Both girls slapped their necks at suspected bug bites, only to drop from the saddle before they could even feel the dart-feathers with their finger tips. Bala Takma, the leader, ordered that the girls be bound and taken back to the Taktala camp.

  Slaves were always in demand at the village of gathered huts. The first pick of the new slaves would go to him as the one who brought them in. The second girl would go to whomever paid the most to the Taktala chief, Vattis. With northerners this close to the main camp, the whole tribe would disappear deeper into the Wildlands within the next twelve hours. With the possibility of war on the horizon, they would continue to move their camp on a weekly basis as they headed south to notify the other tribes of the treaty violation. The priestesses would make sure no northerners could follow them. An assortment of enchanted, quick growing plant seeds and tribal magic would swallow all signs of the tribe’s presence in less than a day’s time.

  Chapter Forty-One

  The Dwarven city of Arkum Zul has been lost to the memories of time for many thousands of years now. Few documented details exist in current collected histories, but still most people know that it lies somewhere below the peaks of Tazammor Mountain. The problem with finding it is that the entrance to the city has been a secret from the very first day that the city had been built. Documents and obscure writings have told us that the city was designed for the dual purpose of weapon invention, creation, and testing and as a gulag, a heavily fortified prison specially designed to house criminal mystics. The last expedition to the ruins resulted in disaster, but I believe that if funded and staffed by the Wizards’ Council and their representatives, that success in finding a way into these ancient ruins will be assured. The benefit of what we might learn far exceeds the current risks.

  EXCERPT FROM KALMAR IBESS’ EXPEDITION PROPOSAL TO THE CETHOSIAN WIZARDS’ COUNCIL FOR THE PURPOSE OF FINDING ARKUM ZUL, 4930 PC

  ARKUM ZUL CATACOMBS

  TAZAMMOR MOUNTAIN

  After a quick meal, Kael and the others continued to move deeper into the mountain. They knew it was only a matter of time before the Orotaq guards worked their way deep enough to find them, so they needed a way out of the mountain cave system soon. They left their camp and headed to the stone steps that spiralled downwards along the sides of the circular cavern below them. Kalmar explained the night before that the cylindrical hole was an old Dwarven bore-hole that headed straight down into the depths of the earth for reasons only the dead race knew.

  The further into the darkness they descended, the darker it became above their heads. Half an hour after starting, they were swallowed in blackness, above and below. N’Ikyah and Galen uttered the words to their identical spells at the same time.

  “Kveykva Hringr.” The spells released two circular globes of light that floated over their heads, giving plenty of light to the down-spiralling shaft. They could see far around them, but nothing besides stone walls and rock steps were visible.

  Kael immediately noticed the similarity to the lightening spell Lycori had taught him months earlier. “That spell you cast is similar to a lightning spell, isn’t it? I recognized the word for light.”

  “Very good, Kael,” Kalmar said. “The verb kveykva means ‘to light’ in the tongue of magic. Kveysa is the word modification for lightning. Do you not know the language of magic? It’s called VosHain. Do you know many of the words?” he asked. As they walked further down the steps, Kael moved closer to him and made sure that his magic was dormant so he didn’t spark an accident.

  “Only what I have managed to pick up in the four and a half months or so that I’ve been here. The only spoken spell I can cast is the ‘kveysa drepa’ spell I learned from a friend…” He stopped talking at the thought of Lycori and Gabriel, and how he had failed them both.

  “Did you say, ‘kveysa drepa’, son?” Still lost in the horrific memories of the past few months, Kael didn’t bother correcting the old man’s use of the word son, but nodded instead.

  “Did you have the pleasure of knowing Master Gabriel Alatar?” Kalmar asked. “A very powerful spell he created, quite genius, actually. And an incredible man.”

  “Yeah,” Kael said, his voice heavy with grief, “I knew him, but his granddaughter was the closet friend I had here. She saved my life many times, but the one time she needed me I couldn’t help her.”

  “That was not your fault, Kael,” N’Ikyah added. “Do not take that onto yourself. Galen and I were there. You could have done nothing to save either of them. It was not your fault. You nearly died doing the little bit you did to ease her passing.”

  “I’m well aware that it wasn’t my fault,” Kael said, looking at her and hoping she would understand. “I know exactly who’s responsible, but I’m also painfully aware that I should have tried harder to help them. That is my fault,” he snapped, and then turned to walk away, heading down the stone stairs by himself.

  As Kael continued walking down the stairs he listened to the conversation of the others that followed behind him, but he wasn’t in the mood to join in. Kalmar was the first to continue the conversation.

  “What was he talking about, Galen? What happened?”

  Galen sighed. “Gabriel and I were put in the same cell together after they took us all to that machine, remember?” he asked, speaking only to Kalmar.

  “I’ll not soon forget that day,” the old wizard huffed.

  “Well,” Galen pressed on, “Kael and Lycori, Gabriel’s granddaughter, were already in the cell when they brought us back to lock us up. Ninety-eight days later, after some of the most sickening and horrific torture–I promise you, I’ll never forget it—the Dead Sisters… They… They killed both Gabriel and Lycori because Kael wouldn’t kill any of the other prisoners in the cell.” Galen’s eyes filled with moisture as he told Kalmar about the deaths of their companion and his granddaughter, finally having to wipe his eyes on the dirty, ragged sleeve of his shirt.

  “Kael suffered for months, Kalmar, and never once considered harming any of us. I owe him my life. I’ve been foolish in not seeing that. I... I won’t hesitate to repay that debt.”

  The old wizard rubbed his eyes at the news, but refused to let anyone see his tears. “I’m sorry you all had to go through that. I cannot believe Gabriel has passed on to the other side. Did he reconcile with his granddaughter before all this happened? It was his life’s biggest regret, I know,” he mentioned.

  N’Ikyah answered him, finally finding her voice. “Yes, they did. They got to spend some time together before that last day.”

  Kalmar said a prayer for his old friend as he continued walking. They had known each other very well, studied together as kids, fought together in wars, and researched many topics together. Though Gabriel was always ahead of Kalmar in the skill, the man never held an envious thought against his friend.

  “I hope that he has found peace on the other side.”

  Bringing him from his thoughts, N’Ikyah asked, “Kalmar, do you think you can help Kael learn to use his magic properly?”

  “I don’t know, child. DeathWizards are different creatures from us and Kael is apparently a DeathWizard all his own. We know so little about them besides the documented violence, destruction, and evil, yet he shows none of that. Being born with a cruus, wizards like Kael don’t tap into their magic like we do; it is part of them always. They are purely magical creatures, like the Fae or the DragonKin. Perhaps the DragonKin could help... Oh, but he wouldn’t be allowed there. Sorry,” Kalmar said, with a sheepish grin, “didn’t mean to get off track. Kael says that spoken spells work with little effort so maybe that would be the best way to go for now. Teach him to speak the words of the goddess, Inara. The language of VosHain.”

  N’Ikyah’s face fell in shame. “I don’t know the words, Kalmar. It is forbidden for slaves to learn it.”

  �
��Then I’ll teach him what I can and so will Galen. Anything else he will have to figure out as he goes,” Kalmar suggested. Seeing as how she was talking and being open, Kalmar prodded further into N’Ikyah’s life as well.

  “And how about you, girl? You are one of the mythical Dead Healers, are you not?” Her look of surprise made him smile. “Ah, don’t look so taken back, young one. I’ve been around a very long time and have studied your mistresses as much as I could. It’s no stretch of the imagination to know that when torturing someone you need very good healers nearby. See? Old but not gone yet,” he said, tapping the side of his head.

  N’Ikyah could only smile at the old man as she replied. “I have heard us referred to as such, Master Wizard. My life before Kael was as a slave, whether to heal or… Well, a slave none the less. My freedom and loyalty lie with him, the same as yours.”

  Kalmar touched her shoulder with a gnarled hand still showing the signs of torture. “I apologize, young one, if I have offended. It was not my intent. I only meant to acknowledge your skills as an exceptional healer. I’ve always found it unnatural that the best healers since the Fae became extinct are ones trained by such evil orchestrators of chaos. Ironic, do you not think?” he asked.

  “Yes, it is, but when you fail to save someone they have tortured for hours, the punishment is severe.” A darkness settled over the young woman’s features, but Kalmar didn’t notice, his scholarly excitement taking over.

  “I’ve always had this theory. Would you like to hear it? I’ve studied and researched the Dead Sisters and their ways for longer than any other wizard, alive or dead.”

  She sighed. “If you would like.”

  “The Fae have been gone for many thousands of years. Everyone knows this, but what if Fae magic managed to filter down in the blood of Humans and the Elvehn? It is a common belief that many of the Fae had children with mortals, families even. I think it’s possible that the Dead Sisters have a way to detect this trait, and that is why they take young girls like your mother and others.” N’Ikyah stopped walking and stared at Kalmar. She was physically shaking and a dark frown had replaced the earlier smile.

  “I mean no offence, wizard, but that is the dumbest thing I have ever heard. They are capable of training healers like us because of two simple things. The first is that we get more practise than you could ever imagine if you had three life times to try, but the main way they do it is the most effective. The punishment for failing to save someone is that you must watch while they burn your family alive and give the remains to the Orotaq for a feast. You learn to do better or your group of sister healers will be next. Women and girls who were raised with you from birth, they are the only family we know; they are effective incentive to not fail. If you should fail a third time, it results in your fate matching those who suffered after your first two failures. I was six years old the first and only time I failed to save someone, Kalmar. It was twelve years ago. My mother, brother, and two sisters paid the price. My third sister only survived because she could heal like me; because of my failure, she hates me to this very day. She abandoned the path of healing and is now a Dead Sister. That is how they train healers of the quality they do. Do you still find it ironic, wizard? Because I don’t.” Kalmar bowed but said no more, clearly horrified by the history the young girl had just revealed to him.

  Kael overheard the entire conversation from further down the stone column, though he already knew about N’Ikyah’s past. He had asked her how she came to be a slave some time ago and learned of her training at the same time. It still bothered him to hear it again. Like some morbid curse upon itself, he believed that Talohna bred cruelty. Everywhere he’d been there was suffering and death. It was worse than any nightmare he’d ever had. Kael knew that the Cardessa threatened to kill N’Ikyah’s healer family if she failed to keep him alive. He had seen her so exhausted from trying to help him that she didn’t have the energy to move out of her own pool of vomit. All she ever tried to do was help him, and it made him realize how badly he felt for snapping at her earlier.

  A light globe formed above his head and floated a little higher as she walked even with him and ahead of the others.

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he said. “I wasn’t mad at you. It’s just…”

  “You do not need to apologize, Kael,” she said, as she took his arm in hers. “I understand what she meant to you. She was very lucky to have someone like you to care for her.”

  “I was the lucky one. She saved my life so many times, just like you have. I don’t belong in this world, this nightmare. My friend, Max, though, God, he’d be loving every minute of it if he had survived the crossover,” Kael said, laughing. She smiled at him.

  “It is good to see you laugh. Please call me Kyah, if you would like. It is what my mother called me. I have never cared enough for someone to ask them that, but you are different…” She trailed off, as he glanced her way. She had stopped and was staring at something with a focused curiosity. Preparing what little magic he had, Kael followed the sight line of her eyes.

  His magic sputtered and died, forgotten, as he realized they had come to the bottom of the stone stairs and out of the cavern into an underground city that was miles across. Veins of bright crystal embedded in the rock ceiling far over head produced a weak light that allowed them to see the city that lay ahead. The massive, crumbling ruins were built from stone and more crystal, with unrecognizable designs carved in the doors and walls of every building. Some of the structures were several stories high, and the entire city appeared to be surrounded by massive stalagmites, most of which were over thirty feet tall. Had someone not come down the stone stairwell as they had, no one would even know the city was there.

  The others came up behind Kael and Kyah but stopped as Galen whistled at the sight before them. Kalmar, however, actually seemed to know where they were.

  “This has got to be the lost city of Arkum Zul,” he said. “No one has set foot here in modern times. I don’t think anyone has set foot here in ten thousand years, in fact. Such a view. I never believed I would see such a wondrous sight,” Kalmar said, as he stared out across the ancient city.

  “I thought Arkum Zul was where we were being held?” Kael asked.

  “Kalmar?” Galen said, looking to the older wizard.

  “It is, Kael. We were being held above the weapon foundry in the prison we call a gulag. They’re designed to hold magic users, all magic users. But this city is where the Dwarven people who worked in the foundry and the prison would have lived with their families. Dwarven cities were huge, sprawling complexes. Often there are mines, or prisons as well, like with Arkum Zul here,” he explained.

  “All right, I get it. Come on,” Kael said, in a whisper. The eerie quiet was nerve-racking. “Hopefully we can find some weapons and a place to rest. If this is a Dwarven city like you figure, there should be something here we can use to defend ourselves before the Orotaq find us.”

  After making their way down the last of the spiral staircase, it took another three hours to come close to the far edge of the underground city. They could just make out the colossal bronze gates at the far end of the worn pathway Kael and the others had been using to traverse the city. They were still over a mile away when Kael stopped moving and looked at Kyah with a puzzled look on his face.

  “Do you feel them?” he asked, his voice heavy with concern. “Galen, how about you?” he frowned, and waited for their answer. They shook their heads in unison, but only Kyah answered.

  “I feel nothing. What is it?” she replied, and touched his arm. He held up his hand for them to be quiet and closed his eyes to concentrate harder. A putrid sense of corruption made his skin crawl, forcing his eyes wide in fear.

  “Oh, no,” he muttered. “Come on. You both need to keep your lights low to the ground. We’re being followed.”

  “The Orotaq guards the Dead Sisters sent after us?” Kyah asked, in a whisper.

  “No,” Kael answered, as he moved towards the
nearest building. “They’re smaller than the Orotaq, smaller than us even, maybe four feet tall, but there’s close to thirty of them. Galen’s swords are the only weapon we have. We need to hide.” He began to move once more, his body still shivering with what he felt through his magical senses.

  “I can feel them at the far limit of my esoteric sight,” he continued, “a mile behind us, but I’m not strong enough to get better details. Now hurry up! They know we’re here, but they can’t get to us yet. Christ! They move so fast, I can’t keep track of them. Something about them makes my skin crawl,” Kael explained, a touch of fear causing his voice to rise as he jogged to the closest building in the abandoned city.

  They got lucky with the first building they tried as the door opened easily and with only the lightest scraping of metal on stone. Kael knew they had only minutes before the three outward ranging scouts would be right behind them, so they searched the house as fast as they could, finding a basement that had one door leading deeper into what appeared to be ancient catacombs that spread out far below the old city. Satisfied they wouldn’t be trapped, they took up positions by the main floor windows, extinguished their lights and waited.

  It took only moments before several soft footsteps padded on the ceiling of the house they had chosen to hide in. Kael looked up, the hairs at the back of his neck twitching. One of the creatures dropped to the ground with graceful ease, landing without a sound right in front of the window where Kael and Kyah were watching. Kael glanced her way, recognizing the fear etched into the features of her face. She turned pale and he knew the danger of their situation had just increased tenfold. The scout stood statue-still for several minutes before it began turning its head with an exaggerated slowness. An eerie, hollow clicking sound seemed to emanate from deep within its throat, and as a shiver rolled through his body, Kael was reminded of a hammer strike on a hollow wooden tree.