The Kingdom of Tamarack (Book One in The Tamarack Series)

by Ross Turner

  Stalactites hung randomly from the ceiling and in the centre of the chamber lay a small pool of water. The pool was beautifully serene and a crystal clear blue, though too deep to see to the bottom. It reminded Isabel of Still Waters and a flash of pain raced momentarily through her chest as Ben and Zhack’s faces passed quickly in and out of her thoughts. She imagined also that the significance of what had happened on that perfect lake had something, quite intimately, to do with the serenity of this one.

  The horses had moved quietly to the pool, oddly making no noise in this chamber, and drank calmly from the perfect surface. Zanriath too moved over to the water and sat comfortably at its edge. Isabel and Ayva followed suit. The smooth stone floor was strangely warm to the touch and calmed them as they sat. The horses moved back from the pool and lay just behind where the three rested. The water instantly stilled.

  On an instinct, Isabel leaned forward and dipped her hand into the pool, breaking its surface once more, sending a wave of perfect ripples soaring out across the shimmering face. The water itself was icy cold, freezing in fact, and she quickly withdrew her hand. Once more the pool was immediately tranquil.

  Feeling no need to say anything at all, the three sat there in silence, their anxiety fading into the background of their thoughts. Isabel sensed that Zanriath had spent much time here in the past and she felt then that she understood at least part of the reason for their being here. She was able to think clearly for the first time in seventeen years, with nothing else allowed to distract her from the focus of her will.

  She saw Depozi. She saw His anger. She saw His never-ending fear. She even saw His deepening confusion, watching powerlessly as Isabel overcame every adversity in even the most hopeless of situations. He raged in frustration, knowing full well that her coming to this place only confirmed further that she would eventually reach Him. And when she did, He would have no choice but to oppose her. After all, He was her whole reason for undertaking this journey in the first place.

  She still didn’t know exactly what lay in store for her immediate future before she faced the Demon-Lord, but she somehow felt more prepared, as if clearing her mind strengthened and prepared her for the test.

  ‘And when the time does come Isabella, you shall know what to do.’ The voice sounded softly through her thoughts, clear as day in the dancing blue light. She silently agreed with the voice that could not belong to a God, and looked expectantly on towards the pool. Zanriath and Ayva also looked to the water and she wondered if the voice had spoken to them also. Yet she still did not know to whom the voice belonged. But that did not matter now.

  She wondered how many times Zanriath had seen Ormath before. Would it be different now that he’d come all this way?

  The water rippled almost unnoticeably for the shortest of moments before the entire surface burst silently alight. The new blue flames shimmied across the surface of the pool and were identical to the fire Zanriath had created to light their path.

  Isabel felt a cold push suddenly at her neck and looked to her amulet. It glowed the exact same blue as the fire and was icy against her skin. She looked inquisitively across at Zanriath and saw that his eyes too were the same rich, yet soft blue that she now saw all around her. It surrounded Isabel and encompassed her, gently pulling her in to a serene and accepting state of mind. She allowed herself to be given to the strange feeling without reluctance.

  Then, among the shimmering flames, atop the water, a figure began to take form, flickering at first with the fire, but then becoming more solid, as if taking physical form from the flames themselves. The figure was identical in colour to the dancing flames and rested gently on the surface of the water, more a part of the fire than amidst it. Still the pool was calm and untouched.

  The figure was Ormath. As He slowly took form, the majestic dragon that Isabel had always imagined appeared before her eyes, plucked from her very imagination. He stood on four legs and His broad chest rippled with muscle. His wings, though folded at His sides, were enormous and slowly flexed before settling. Though His face was clearly one of a fearsome beast, Isabel recognised more human qualities and emotion than she had ever done before, even in any human.

  Isabel and Ayva’s eyes were wide and they remained transfixed as what could only be a shared hallucination standing before them. But Zanriath smiled and was the first to break the long silence.

  “It has been far too long Ormath.”

  “Indeed my son, it has been many months now since I have seen you in person.” His voice was soft and quiet. Isabel had expected such a creature’s voice to boom with power, though the respect His tone demanded was quite evident. “And my dear Isabella…” Ormath said now turning to her.

  “It’s an honour.” She replied, not quite knowing how to address the God before her. He returned her remark with a smile, if dragons can be said to smile.

  “The honour is mine my dear. Ayva too…” He began, turning now to her, examining her intensely for a moment before continuing. “My pleasure also, truly you are fit for the task that lies ahead of you.”

  “Thank you Ormath.” Ayva replied. Isabel wasn’t sure if Ayva knew what exactly He was referring to, or if she just didn’t know how to address Him either.

  “You are perfectly on schedule my child.” Ormath congratulated Zanriath before looking between the girls. “And of course, the children of my brothers too. Without you both, all would have been lost a long time ago.” Again Isabel wasn’t entirely sure exactly what He was referring to, but she was certain that in time she would come to understand, as she had done with so many other things. He continued.

  “So, Timeless Zanriath, your burden persists, and Isabella the Eternal, your meeting with my troubled brother is near at hand.” The way He saw His brother’s confusion, almost as torment, enhanced Isabel’s perspective of her enemy, and indeed, made her question if He even was her enemy. “And Ayva Penworth, for longer than you realise you have been preparing for the challenge ahead of you, and you have indeed already seen a glimpse of it. You must remain strong and persist.”

  “I will.” Ayva replied calmly. He smiled in recognition, though, how He managed to smile, Isabel never fully understood.

  “Now.” He said from His pedestal of flames, still addressing Ayva. “Take your arms and do what you must with them.” Isabel was confused and looked over at Zanriath and Ayva, but they both seemed to know exactly what was going on. Ayva drew her swords with care and held her bow tenderly. Zanriath, his eyes burning brighter by the minute, matched only by Ormath’s shining aura, stood boldly and took a confident step onto the blazing pool. Still the water was untouched as he walked out to join his God, his master, perhaps even the closest thing he had to a father.

  Ayva knelt at the water’s edge and placed her weapons upon its blazing surface. They immediately sank into the freezing depths and disappeared as they were swallowed deep into the heart of the mountain.

  Zanriath stood by Ormath and Ayva leaned forward, letting her hands fall into the water, sinking them up to just below her shoulders, she was almost completely engulfed by the flames. The amulet at Isabel’s neck pulsated and it was as if the very mountain matched the beat, identical to that of Isabel’s heart, a deep resonant throb that could be felt through the very rock and stone and earth.

  The fire intensified and soon it felt as if the mountain had been ablaze for an eternity. Slowly, from the depths of the pool, Ayva’s weapons were returned to her, burning anew, rising through the pristine water.

  Pulling her swords from the pool, one in each hand, they erupted with the blue flame, each blade alight with Ormath’s strength. Replacing them at her back the fires ceased and she reached in to the freezing water once again. Leaning down through the fire she pulled her bow from the glassy pit. It burned the same intense blue and relished the touch of her caressing hands once more.

  Its flames too were doused as she strapped it to her back and stood back from the flaming water. Zanriath walked back to join his fri
ends and the intensity of the flames lessened. Isabel knew this was exactly how Zanriath and Ormath had created her amulet, fusing their wills with hers without her even realising. The throbbing at her neck ceased and they all turned to the Dragon-God once more.

  “It is done.” His soft voice announced, concluding the re-forging of Ayva’s arms. “You must keep them close at hand Ayva, for when they are needed you shall have little time.” She nodded. “The boy has been slain.” He continued in a prophesising manner. “But the demons that once feared his power still endure. They sense that you move to remove them from your beloved Kingdom and cast them back into their own realm, and so even still they move against you. Whether or not they are aware of the events that shall unfold in the immediate future, they will play their part. The fourth army in your path gathers in Land of the Demon-Lord, where they await your coming.”

  “And that’s where we’re going next…” Isabel finished.

  “Indeed. My brother has separated Himself from His people and now resides in what has come to be known as the Lair of the Demonic.”

  “The island located off the south coast of Land.” Isabel continued again, the location coming to her instantly.

  “Yes Isabella. You have knowledge of this already.”

  “How do we get to Depozi if He’s on another island?” Ayva asked uncertainly. “I’m presuming there’s another bridge.”

  “No, there isn’t.” Isabel said.

  “I am afraid I do not have that answer for you Ayva.” Ormath answered honestly. “It is Zanriath’s task to provide you with a route, but only up to a point. It is Isabel’s task to arrange the meeting.”

  “Time is short.” Zanriath said with some concern, looking back to the pass they’d come from as if he could hear the storm gathering outside the mountain.

  “Yes my son.” Ormath agreed. “Stay for as long as you need, but be aware that your time is precious.”

  “Ormath…” Isabel began. “Just one last thing…” He said nothing, waiting patiently for her, though already seeing what troubled her. But she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t show her friends her doubt. ‘What if I’m not strong enough? What if I fail? I don’t know if I can do this alone.’ He understood her unspoken concern and His father-like presence in her thoughts comforted her some.

  ‘My dear Isabella, the concept of being alone is much less frightening when you know that your friends would gladly give their lives for you. You were alone with the boy at Still Waters, until the twins intervened. But were you really alone? Or was your perceived loneliness created to disadvantage you?’ The simple truth was sudden and so obvious that she even felt a little ashamed.

  “Thank you.” She said quietly to the dragon, her voice barely a quivering whisper. Zanriath moved to her side and slid his warm arm round her waist.

  “We have to move soon.” He told them all. Ayva and Isabel nodded and Ormath looked on the three, satisfied that His work had been successful. All those years He had spent with Zanriath and the preparations they had made, sometimes even unwittingly, for Isabel and Ayva. All of it led to the three individuals standing before Him now. And now the only thing that remained to see was whether they were actually three individuals, or whether they could become something more complete. They would have to do just that to find victory in their tasks.

  “I shall leave you then my son.” He said to Zanriath with clear regret, before turning to Isabel and Ayva also. “I bid you farewell and good luck. Never lose hope.” Ben and Zhack’s faces flashed before Isabel’s eyes once more.

  Then Ormath began to flicker and fade, melting back into flames the way He had come. All too soon He was gone and the fire dancing its way over the motionless pool followed, leaving the cavern somehow darkened and much less fulfilled.

  For a short time Isabel and her two friends remained, still encircled by Zanriath’s protective ring of fire. Isabel studied her reflection in the mirror of the perfect pool and was sure she saw something new in her eyes, something she had not expected to see - the power to challenge her own God, and to strike His very being from this world. He had turned to the demonic, and it was such foolery that had condemned Him. It was only because of his link to the demons that Isabel could even hope to oppose Him.

  It wasn’t her power that gave her strength, but her confidence. She had learnt from her mistakes, and she must continue to do so. The voice had been right, and their meeting with Ormath had only confirmed it.

  Still they said nothing to each other, but rather they spent the silence absorbing everything that had just happened, simply taking comfort in each other’s company. But they were allowed little reprieve. Zanriath turned to the fault they had entered the mountain by to find the horses already there waiting to leave, all too eager to be out of the mountain and back under clear sky - not that it would stay clear for very long.

  He looked to Isabel and Ayva, who were both also ready to move, and holding equally solemn expressions. It seemed unquestionable now; their next destination was the Lair of the Demonic, to confront none other than the Demon-Lord who had unleashed these evil hordes upon Tamarack in the first place.

  Between them and Him stood many more miles of arduous travel, a raging storm that edged closer by the minute, an army of demonic beasts bent on their destruction, though for their own gain rather than Depozi’s self-preservation, and an ocean crossing to His lair off the south of Land, which at this point, none of them knew how they could complete.

  And so, with those daunting notions at the forefront of their thinking, the three friends retraced their steps through the fault and back out into the cold. The comfort of the flames extinguished behind them and soon they found themselves under a clear but dark sky, being once again barraged by steadily increasing winds. They had been in the mountain much longer than Isabel had originally guessed.

  “It’ll be dawn soon.” Zanriath said looking cautiously to the north. Even in the dark the approaching storm was obvious. “We have to move.” Neither Isabel nor Ayva needed to reply. They mounted and began south, all too aware of their weariness creeping in now they had left Ormath’s cave, and of the chasing storm, and of the demons in their path. It seemed too much for just the three of them to have to cope with.

  Isabel looked to her friends for reassurance, and gladly found what she needed. Their meeting with Ormath had given them much more than it seemed just at face value. Ben and Zhack had not sacrificed themselves in vain.

  Through all the hardship that was surely still to come, they did, after all, have hope.

  35

  Their return journey to Akten on Avrik took them less time than their outgoing trip to Dragon’s Peak, though this was due to a considerable lack of rest rather than a faster pace, and that only made the going more difficult.

  They reached the cave they’d used previously in relatively good time, but before they could even see the river crossing, the charging storm caught up with them and they found themselves stranded in a whiteout. Struggling painfully slowly, leading their horses, battling the freezing cold and a steadily deepening exhaustion, they had no option other than to push on. To stop without shelter would be to die.

  The bitter winds gnawed every inch of exposed skin and, no matter how hard Isabel tried to hide beneath her thick clothes, it always managed to find a way in. She followed as closely as she could behind Zanriath as he battled to lead them through the baying storm. The day had turned dark and, though dawn had come and gone, it was still as if they travelled at night, visibility virtually zero. The storm worsened.

  After what felt to Isabel like yet another eternity, the way it always seems to when sight is limited, they found the River Avrik, and soon after the small bridge crossing it. The sight of the bridge gave them all a little more strength, knowing that soon they would leave the storm behind. Isabel shuddered when she imagined how much worse the storm must be further north and she was suddenly very grateful that they had forced themselves to cover so much ground before it had caught up
with them.

  Zanriath pushed them hard, but took no risks with the horses, knowing they still needed them; Isabel was certain he must have known the storm would reach them sooner or later, but she was certain also that he would lead them safely through it, and in fact all the way to the Lair of the Demonic.

  It took them yet another day to make it down from the bridge to the border and out of Inferno Range. Isabel was more than glad to have made it out of the storm, and even more pleased to see Akten finally come into view as they followed the River Avrik south towards the town. It was dark again now, almost two days since they’d left the comfort of the cave south of Dragon’s Peak; they sat wearily with their exhausted horses and made their way toward the welcoming lights of civilisation.

  Walking quietly down the broad streets Akten was eerily silent and Zanriath hastily led them to the nearest inn. He paid the innkeeper for rooms whilst Isabel and Ayva took the horses to the stables. Ayva promptly headed inside eager for some rest, while Isabel lingered for a moment, closing her eyes and testing the barrier she’d put in place before they’d left, though it was more of a struggle in her fatigued state. It still stood. She smiled and was pleased with the results of her work; taking a moment, she checked the island for any traces of her demonic foes. As she had expected, she found very little, a few still lingered further south, but most were gone, and it appeared they had been unable to find Akten in her absence. Amongst all that had happened, her small victory there spurred her spirits enormously.

  She followed Ayva inside much more contentedly and, none of them bothering to eat, they retired to bed for much needed rest, taking little notice of anything in their weary state.

  When Isabel awoke the next day she felt alive and refreshed, squinting slightly at first as the bright morning light streamed in through the square window, with curtains either side that hadn’t been drawn. Shifting to lie on her back Zanriath unconsciously brought his arm across her stomach and lay still sleeping soundly at her side.