“Relax, boy’o, we’ll be fine, now that I have me axes.” Grik said then took a seat on the top step watching Rayna and Satana make it to the landing then continue down to the floor below them.
“If I had my things I would relax! But seeing as they have seen fit to relieve me of my personal belongings, unjustly I might add, I can hardly relax!” Katlin made his way around the two chests and walked down the stairs a few steps then turned around, peering over the chests back down the hall, still on high alert. He crouched, like he was ducking from someone’s sight which made Grik look back down the hall. There was nothing there, only Katlin’s fear driven imagination.
Satana and Rayna made their way down to the next floor. It too, was a stone hallway like the one above. It appeared that where they were was more cut from the mountain than a structure built within. Doors line the wall to their right. On the far side of the hall was a door just where the hall veered left. Rayna stopped at the first door, listening closely for any sounds. She glanced at Satana who gave her a quick nod to proceed. Rayna grabbed the handle of the door and slid it aside, then pushed the door, opening it inward. They both peered in, crouching low, one behind the other. It was a cavern, dimly lit from somewhere within. There were jutting rocks and boulders scattered about, plenty of hiding places.
“What do you want to do?” Rayna whispered.
“See if there is a threat that’ll come running if it hears Grik dragging those chest’s down this hall.” Satana whispered back.
Rayna stepped through the door, moving as quietly as she could. Satana followed her, staying within a whisper’s distance. They moved from rock to rock, hiding behind one to the next, moving to the source of the light. The cavern arced around to where a Mind Flayer was feeding on Alyndra, it’s tentacled mouth enveloped her head. Her eyes were open, but they were black. She was in her Vordalyn form, her wings twitched, and her horns were only visible poking out from under the tentacles that made the humanoid creature’s mouth. It looked like a squid rested where a man’s head should be. Rayna spotted the creature first, ducking down behind a rock and dragging Satana with her. Rayna quickly signaled Satana to silence, then peeked out from behind the rock to see if they were noticed. She had one hand on Satana’s wrist, squeezing it tightly in anticipation of what she might see. They had not been noticed by the creature. Its eyes were closed, and its head pulsed and glowed from its tentacles that were wrapped around Alyndra’s head, feeding on her powerful Vordalyn mind. Satana slowly rose to see what Rayna was looking at. Her eyes went wide, and she reached for her sword when she saw it. Rayna grabbed her hand before Satana could pull out her sword, then quickly clapped her other hand over Satana’s mouth, nearly tackling her back down behind the rock. Rayna moved close enough to Satana, so they were face to face. Satana snarled with angry eyes. Rayna shook her head no, emphatically then nodded back the way they came. Satana twitched beneath Rayna’s hands she was so angry, wanting to rush in and save Alyndra from the Mind Flayer. Rayna knew it would mean death for the three of them. Satana finally nodded yes making Rayna slowly remove her hands from both Satana’s wrist and mouth. They made their way back through the door, Rayna shut it behind them. Satana started to speak but Rayna waved her hand at her signaling her to silence again, very aggressively. It wasn’t until they were back on the stairs and almost to where Grik and Katlin were, did Rayna finally speak.
“That was a Mind Flayer, if it sensed our presence, it would have turned us into mindless zombies, with hardly any effort. We cannot fight that thing with brute force.” Rayna explained.
“Are we just gonna walk away and let it eat her?” Satana growled.
Katlin looked at Grik then at Rayna, he gave a little shrug not knowing how to answer, but to Satana, his look was an answer.
“I’m just saying we can’t alert it to our presence.” Rayna said.
“A Mind Flayer,” Grik said grabbing his beard and pondering the ramifications of what was said, “I’ve seen one, just one, mind ya, take over a whole clan of Derro, making them its slaves til death. Fleeing is all there is to do against one such as that, girl.”
Satana pulled out her sword, “I’m not gonna run!”
“Hold on now, girl,” Grik said, “I’m with ya, but let’s think it through, hardly a time to go rushin’ in against something ya know nothin’ about.” Grik had his hands up, trying to calm Satana.
She walked back down to the landing, then back up to where the others were standing, pacing up and down the few steps.
“So, it has like, magic?” Satana asked, “Maybe we can wake Alyndra up, before it sees us, then she can fight it?”
“How do you think she got there in the first place?” Rayna asked in return.
Satana rushed back to the chests, shoving Katlin out of her way then opened one.
“Maybe we can buy her freedom?” She asked taking stock of what was in the chests.
Rayna and Grik exchanged glances, both knowing the answer was no.
“Girl…” Grik said softly.
“I’m not leaving without her!” Satana growled, meeting Grik’s eyes with a steely gaze.
“A heart, beats within you after all?” Katlin chuckled, Satana didn’t even glance in his direction.
“It does not have the same desires as a man.” Rayna said moving closer to Satana, “It will take more than gold to bargain with that. What would interest it? I haven’t any idea.” She finished pointing down the stairs.
“Maybe we can sneak up on it? It didn’t see us, maybe it’s so caught up in Alyndra, that we can get close enough to strike, Katlin can tell us how to use this dagger…” Satana stopped talking and looked around. Katlin was gone. She instinctively brought her hand to her waist where she kept Katlin’s dagger and his bag of holding. Both were gone. “No!” Satana growled, so angry her face turned red.
Rayna and Grik both looked around to see the cause of Satana’s ire, which just happened to be Katlin’s usual disappearance.
Chapter Sixteen
The Priests of O’on gathered outside the door to the library, in the halls of their sanctuary. They were alarmed at the presence of a Vordalyn within. Their leader, Janouc, a battlemage, was inside with the Vordalyn, who had suddenly arrived in the library, appearing from thin air. They listened at the door, awaiting orders from Janouc, none daring to enter the library. The Vordalyn, Talila, was throwing books from their shelves and creating a violent mess.
“Mistress?” Janouc asked, “If you would speak with me a moment, I may be able to help you find what it is you seek?”
Talila stopped what she was doing and glared across the library at him. The last time Janouc saw her, she had just ascended. Talila was drunk with her newfound power and, had it not been for Alyndra’s intervention, Talila would have killed Janouc without a second thought. He hoped she was not still of a mind to do him harm, for his sake. Talila transformed, once again becoming the human girl Janouc knew so well. She, who was, as were her sisters, his former students. Talila walked to the reading table between them.
“I’m looking for a book.”
“Anything specific, or just something to pass the time?” he asked, she instantly glared at him.
Talila didn’t want to be specific with him, she didn’t trust him, she never trusted him. He would run and tell Venalina everything she did or said. She would not find privacy in his presence. A sudden calmness came over her, a terrifying calmness that made Janouc wonder if it was because she decided she would kill him.
“Get out.” She said in almost a whisper, staring deep into his eyes.
Janouc complied without a moment’s hesitation, or another word. The other priests cleared the hall before he came out of the library. Only the senior priests remained, waiting for Janouc to give them some explanation why she was in the library without Venalina, after all, Venalina was the only one allowed in it. Janouc assured them that Venalina would approve of them letting Talila in and they had nothing to be worried about.
&nb
sp; Talila remembered that she once called a book forth, by thinking of what she wanted to learn. It happened shortly after her ascension, when Venalina lost her mind and became feral. It’s how Talila learned to cure her. Talila held her hand out and closed her eyes, imagining a world where no one could find her, where she could hide from the Vordalyn, even Venalina and her own sisters. She imagined Dracon being a father to her child, and the two of them raising it in a secluded land. Her fantasy took a life of its own. She found herself in a field of daisies. Alyndra was at her side, walking hand in hand with her. The laughter of children filled her ears, bringing a smile to her lips. Talila’s eyes popped open, another image revealed itself to her, one not so pleasant. The face of the Mind Flayer with its tentacled mouth enveloping Alyndra’s head. Talila’s face twisted in disgust and anger, pain seared through her brain, dropping her to her knees. She cried out.
In the hallway, Janouc heard Talila cry out and rushed back into the library. She was on her knees looking up at something, her face was twisted. Janouc couldn’t tell if it was pain or anger that had her in such a state. He rushed to her side followed by the few priests who were with him in the hall. The priests gathered around as Janouc knelt by her side, taking her hand. She grabbed his arm so hard she wrenched him to the ground, slowly crushing his plate mail bracers. Janouc grabbed her with his free hand, grimacing in pain.
“Please, my lady!” He grunted, “Please!”
Talila released his arm and fell forward, her wings sprouted from her back as she cried upwards in a guttural scream that pierced the ears of the priests around her. They recoiled from her covering their ears. Talila vanished, reappearing in Taranath. Saida was crying and grabbing her head, rolling on the ground next to Talila, who was also on the ground, but she was covering her belly protectively. Talila’s eyes blurred, her last sight was of other Vordalyn falling to the ground around her, clutching their heads.
Venalina cried out in so much pain, she was unable to move. Kalla was by her side, also overcome with pain. They both soon joined the others on the ground, rolling about, covering their heads with their hands. Kaylin alone managed to remain standing, fighting back the pain like no one around her could.
“Go… daughter…” Kalla said to Kaylin, between grunts of pain, “Save your sister! Save us all!”
Kaylin stumbled, walking away from her downed sisters, then burst into flight, her wings were strong enough to carry her in spite of her pain. She blocked out the images that flooded her mind, making the pain subside. It all came from Alyndra! The revelation terrified Kaylin, what was happening to her sister? She homed in on Alyndra’s whereabouts, then vanished, determined to rescue her.
Chapter Seventeen
Dracon glanced to his left then his right. All his companions had vanished. He held his Unholy Reaver with both hands in front of him, preparing for battle against the armor-clad wizard at the other end of the carpeted walkway.
“What did you do with my friends?” Dracon asked, his voice was just as hollow through his helmet, as his nemesis.
“A true Dark Lord would not concern himself with the affairs of lesser creatures. A true Dark Lord has no friends.”
The man reached up slowly to assure Dracon he was not going to attack. He grabbed the front of his skull faced mask and pulled it off, which made little difference in his appearance. His face was withered, old, virtually identical to the mask, save for his wrinkled skin and sunken eyes. That the man still drew breath amazed Dracon, who was emboldened by the sight of the old wretch. Dracon relaxed, thinking he could snap the old man in two with hardly any effort.
“But you are not a true Dark Lord, are you?”
“You don’t know me. I’ll ask you again, then I will force the answer from you.” Dracon lowered his sword just a bit.
The man coughed out a laugh.
“Dracon.” he licked his dried old lips. “I know you, son of Treska, heir to the throne of Ganlin.”
Dracon straightened up.
“You know of my homeland?”
The man turned away from the large bronze bowl to face Dracon fully. He used his staff to steady himself.
“I know you don armor made for you by your love, wield her sword, the Unholy Reaver, I know you think her dead, but she lives!”
“I won’t fall for any tricks, or deceit, old man!” Dracon growled.
“Come,” The man said holding out his gauntlet covered hand to Dracon, “Look into the waters, see if I know the truth, see with your own eyes, the tale of your struggles.”
Dracon’s armor flickered, then disappeared altogether, as did the Unholy Reaver. Dracon stood unprotected and unarmed. Dracon was annoyed but still, he was unconcerned to face the weary old man, even if it meant he would do so, with nothing but his bare hands. Dracon scanned the room, they were alone. There were darkened entry ways behind the man, lining the wall opposite to Dracon. The room was richly decorated with luxurious tapestries hanging between each entryway, unique from one another, each depicting an act of war. Dracon looked back at the portal. It was still open.
“You don’t want to leave yet? Not until you’ve heard my offer. But first, you must know, I speak the truth. Come.” He bid Dracon again with his outstretched hand.
“The only offer you have to make, is one that saves your life! Where are my friends?” Dracon took a couple of steps toward the man.
He coughed a laugh again, his hand still out, beckoning Dracon closer, in spite of his threat.
“You are bold, recklessly confident. Come, see here, I know you.”
Dracon walked slowly to the man and the big bronze bowl he stood next to. It was large enough to be a garden pool. Dracon stepped off the carpeted walkway to the other side of the bowl from the man, then peaked in. The man waved his hand over the bowl and the waters within swirled. An image formed within the waters; it was Venalina. She was naked and bleeding from a wound to her stomach. She looked so different than what he remembered. It was from a time when he first met her. His heart surged in his chest and it was all he could do to keep himself together. His jaw tensed as the waters swirled again, erasing the image. Another image came into view, Venalina again, on her knees before him and Satana, begging for forgiveness for not telling him about the priest’s portal. The image made Dracon remember how angry he was with her, and how much he missed seeing her face.
“You see,” The man said, “It is truth, I show you,” he waved his hand yet again.
Venalina appeared, once more, the very last time he saw her, breathing her last breath, before Janouc took her body back to the Priest of O’on’s sanctuary. He felt the heartache of that moment welling up within him once again.
“Ah… you miss her.”
“What’s your point?” Dracon asked steeling himself and looking away from the bronze bowl, back to the aged man across from him.
The man smiled and motioned back to the bowl, drawing Dracon’s eyes once again to its swirling waters. Venalina was lying on a pedestal, dead. Janouc stood over her, getting ready to clean her dead body, when she suddenly transformed. Still, her body was motionless. Then, Janouc looked more closely at her and called her name. Venalina’s eyes popped open. Her horns were adorned with gold and jewels like a queen… a Vordalyn Queen! Dracon’s face could not hide his anger, mixed with the jealousy of watching her hug Janouc. He was flooded with emotions, abandonment, anger, betrayal! He looked at the man across the bronze bowl again.
“You have the power to show me this, then you must also have the power to manipulate it.”
“You know what I show you is true.” The man stepped back from the bronze bowl a step, grabbing his staff he had set against it.
“And so, what if it is?” Dracon growled.
“So, we come to our bargain, a trade, if you will.” The man said, “I have it within my power to send you home… to Ganlin.”
“Ganlin is ash and dust. There’s nothing there for me.” Dracon shook his head and looked down into the bowl.
&nb
sp; “Ah, but that is not so, your sister still rules as queen, flanked by your brothers. Together, they are reaching out to other kingdoms, capitalizing on the peace you brought them. It has become a mighty and prosperous nation, and it awaits its rightful king.”
Dracon shot him a look of surprise. Alyndra lied! Then again, they all lied. The new Vordalyn Queen they spoke of, was Venalina all along! Everything they said was a lie! Why? His face reflected the turmoil within him. A new image formed, sensing Dracon’s anger, the man wished to push him even further. The image was of Venalina and other Vordalyn, the Preswynn sisters were there as well. Talila was arguing with Venalina, demanding they all return to Dracon’s side to fight. “All will be well,” Venalina said, those words resonated to Dracon. Talila alone defied Venalina, then vanished to return to Dracon’s side, Dracon knew what happened next, remembering every detail of Talila’s return to his side. Guilt for how he treated Talila suddenly overwhelmed him, the only one of his wives who stood by him, fought by his side. Dracon turned away from the large bronze bowl, breathing heavily, so many emotions flooded him.
“You are not a Dark Lord, Dracon, your own emotions are a testament to that. Give us the blade?”
Dracon walked a few steps further away, wondering where Talila was right then and how he could get to her, the words of the old man behind him eventually made their way through the muck that clouded his senses.
“You want my sword?” Dracon turned back to face him.
“Yes, the Unholy Reaver! Give it to us! It calls, but you refuse to heed its call, to become one with it! Feed it! We will answer the call you resist; become the vessel it seeks! We will unleash it’s fury upon the world!” The man stopped himself from divulging anymore of his intentions and calmed down, “What do you want in return? A way back home and your vengeance?”
Dracon narrowed his eyes at the man, he could hear Satana’s voice warning him against any bargain with the likes of the man before him. Then he wondered what had become of her and his companions. Dracon straightened up.
Dracon and the Edge of the World Page 31