by R W Foster
“Carter, that’s impossible. I was captured by Belial soon after we met.”
“How soon?” I said.
“Right after Mordecai and I left you watching the soldiers training.”
“But, that’s—”
‘Carter, have you rescued the princess yet?’ Weijia sent.
‘Yes. I’m speaking with her now.’
‘Good. Get yourself to the throne room now! I need your help!’
“Your highness, our memory differences will have to wait. I have friends near Belial’s throne room that need our aid. Are you ready?”
“Of course.”
5
The throne room was opulent, yet macabre. The walls were worked stone, etched with skillful images of dwarves. The floor was worked to a mirror-like sheen and had a thick, plush carpet that created a path from the elaborate doors Adora and I had just walked through to a large throne. The ceiling had bas relief sculptures of Morgrid and what I assumed were other dwarf gods. Filth was everywhere and on everything, evidence of demonic occupation. We approached the area where the throne was and I was brought up short by what I discovered. The throne wasn’t a normal big chair. This was a lot more grotesque, made from bones and body parts. A few decaying remnants gave evidence the construction was an ongoing project.
A commotion to the side of the throne caught my attention. Weijia and Adora were struggling with Durrgedenn, trying to keep him from tearing at his beard. I looked to figure out what had set him off and had to fight my gorge back down. Three dwarves hung from the wall. They were dead, but it was evident they had died in a horrible way. Blood and shreds of skin lay on the floor beneath the bodies. I guessed they were his children.
“Let him grieve,” I commanded.
The women stopped and turned to me, shocked at my tone. The sounds of my friend’s grief gave me chills. Weijia and Adora came up to me. They spoke in low voices.
“Carter, we should stop him from harming himself,” Adora said.
“Now isn’t the time to be losing our minds,” Weijia said.
“He needs time to grieve for his children. We will allow that,” I said.
The women were aghast.
“Those were his children?” Adora asked.
“How do you know?” Weijia asked, puzzled.
“When a dwarf tears his beard out like that, it is because of a terrible heartache,” I said.
“Have you spent a lot of time among the dwarves since I saw you last?” Adora asked.
“No. Let’s go to the tower. I want to check something.”
6
We made it to the top of the tower without incident. The room we were in was just beneath the roof and was circular in nature. Based on the glass ceiling of the room, I assumed it had been designed as an observatory. I walked over to a large window in the wall and looked through the glass which offered a wonderful panoramic view of the dawn. The countryside came into sight as the sun rose higher in the sky. Soon, I was able to spot the army that had followed us from Glitterhame. The dwarves, Snebbli, elves and humans looked pretty sharp in their polished dwarf craft armor. Sunlight glimmered and sparkled from their armor and shields. Pennants snapped and waved, proud in the early morning breeze.
Like a dark tsunami, a horde of demons swarmed out of the trees and tore into the unsuspecting army before it. The men and women who had accompanied us fought with courage, but it was to no avail. They were outnumbered and caught off guard. Within minutes, our army was slaughtered to a man.
Belial strode to the front of the demonic horde and bellowed in triumph at us. I had no doubt he could perceive us with ease where we stood. His horde consisted of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of demons and monsters.
I turned to my companions and perceived they were already looking to me. Both women had scared and worried looks on their faces. I knew neither wanted to be captured by Belial again. I sighed.
“We’re gonna need some allies.”
“Yes we are,” Lady Orwen said.
I kept my eyes on the horde of demons for a few moments longer then turned to the women. “We have to get out of here. Let’s collect Durrgedenn and try to sneak out.”
“Good idea, Carter.”
7
As we raced through the hallways, back to Durrgedenn’s secret entrance, a metallic gleam from behind a door caught my eye. I stumbled to a halt, then jogged back, escape slipping from my mind. I felt as if something called to me. The plain stone door was only closed a little. I pushed it the rest of the way open, dislodging a cloud of dust, and entered the room.
Light came from what appeared to be a pool of liquid gold, revealing the chamber to be a plain stone room. Dust coated the floor. No one had been in here for an age. The ceiling was only a few inches above my head, the walls within reach of my outstretched arms. The size of the room reminded me of the third floor bathroom back home. The unexpected memory sent a pang of homesickness through me. It had been so long since I had thought of home, my cheeks burned. ‘What must have been going through my mother’s mind? Did she think I’d been kidnapped, or that I’d run away? How was she coping with my absence?’
I blinked and a golden being was before me. The lower part of his body flowed into the pool of gold. Waves of the glowing metal cascaded over his rough features. “Hello, Carter. You have questions,” he said.
“How do you know my name, or that I have questions?”
“This is my nature.”
“Your nature is to know my name and that I have questions?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because this is how I was made.”
“What is your purpose?” I said, growing frustrated .
“My purpose is to know.”
“Son of a bitch.” I groaned. The golden being just watched. At least, I think he did. He possessed no eyes, so I couldn’t tell for certain. Running my fingers through my hair, I sighed. The others must not have noticed I was no longer with them. I heard nothing from them. “Tell me what you know of my questions.”
The golden being raised an arm. A curtain of gold streamed down. The glow brightened, then became white. A moment later, my mother, sleeping in her bed, flashed before my eyes. She looked so peaceful. According to her alarm clock next to her bed, it was still the same night I had left. My forehead wrinkled.
“That’s not possible.”
The scene became of myself and Dearbhaile. She was tugging on my arm as I pulled at something on the ground. A light flashed and we were thrown. A clock was shown with the hands going counter-wise. A calendar was superimposed over the clock face, days ticking backwards. I counted, wanting to know how much time reversed. To my surprise, sixty days ticked back. Before I could ask what it meant, the inside of a bedchamber appeared. Lady Orwen was readying herself for bed. Unknown to her, Mordecai was watching her preparations. Lucas Rumpff’s face appeared, superimposed over the whole scene. He was laughing, triumphant.
The images faded from view, leaving me staring at the gold curtain dripping from the arm of the being in the pool. I blinked then shook my head.
“How did you do that?” I asked.
“This is my nature.”
“What else can you show me?”
“One other thing.”
This time, the other arm was raised. The light that appeared was green. I spotted a man with long, dark hair. He was broad shouldered and clad in a form-fitting and silvery, purple-green armor. A head band of the same color crossed his forehead. Another man came up beside him and clasped the first in an embrace. This newcomer was clad in brown leather. He had sable hair and a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes. Seconds later, a woman in a white costume, with glowing sapphire eyes and a lean male clad in a black armored suit appeared. They greeted the other men with hugs and backslaps. A young woman with curly brown hair strode up and kissed the big guy in metal armor on both of his cheeks. I couldn’t hear any words the group spoke, but the girl calling the big guy, “Carter,
” was as plain as day.
The scene shifted, showing the outside of a crimson stoned tower. What appeared to be the Grim Reaper stood in front of the edifice. Lucas Rumpff stood next to him. All too soon, this imagery faded. As it did, Mordecai’s voice came through, clear as crystal.
“Soon, all will be ready, my lord.” Somehow, I knew he wasn’t talking to me.
I turned my attention back to the golden being. “How do you know this?”
“This is my purpose,” came the stock response.
Fuck. “What are you?”
“The Seer.”
“What do you see?”
“Questions and answers.”
This was getting frustrating. I hated not getting straight answers.
“Ask your questions the proper way, Carter.”
Great. A huge demonic army has annihilated the company of dwarves, Elven, Snebbli and humans that had accompanied me to rescue Lady Orwen from the clutches of Belial, the son of Lucien the Demon King, and this being formed of liquid gold decided to get snarky with me. I paused to get my breathing and irritation under control. “Where did you come from, Seer?”
“I was created by the ancestors of Durrgedenn Silverhame.”
“Why?”
“They required answers.”
“Tell me your story. The short version. I don’t have much time.”
The golden being paused as if surprised. I guess no one asked for his story before. After a few minutes, he told me his story.
“Four thousand years ago, a war between gods was fought. Chokkan, Kandel Orwen and Briggen Silverhame lead their armies against Lucien and Samhain. The fighting became so devastating to the Realm, the Walker of Worlds intervened. However, even he was stymied because of a traitor within their midst.
“The wisest dwarven sages of the time came up with a plan to discover the traitor. The leader volunteered himself to be the focal point and I came to be.”
‘Something new.’ I found myself with even more questions than before. “Who was this traitor?”
“A human telepath.”
“Name him.”
“I have been commanded to forget the name.”
I felt my brow furrowing. “By who?”
“I do not remember.”
My left eyebrow shot up. The telepath must have been the one who commanded the Seer to forget. Before I could ask him further questions, a hollow boom echoed through the clan hold and dust sifted from the ceiling and before my eyes. I had run out of time.
8
I ran from the room, debris falling from the ceiling as another resounding boom shook the fortress. I encountered Lady Orwen running towards me. I shook my head before she could ask me any questions. She skidded to a stop and hurried after me. I felt her warm hand take my icy one. The images I’d seen flickered through my mind as the two of us raced to catch up with Durrgedenn and Weijia.
They strained to open the heavy door, and I decided not to slow. Adora’s feet kept perfect time with me, as she too, must have decided not to slow. Durrgedenn glanced over his shoulder in time to spot first me, and then the Princess, as we slammed into the heavy portal. The sudden impact knocked the air from my chest, but I continued to push at the door, and soon we made it out. The stone slab closed behind us with an echoing thud.
The four of us pounded down the dirt tunnel, swinging through twists and turns until we at last drew to a halt at the bottom of the ladder which lead to the surface. We leaned over to catch our breath. Durrgedenn slumped against the bottommost rung of the ladder, his face streaked with tear tracks, his beard, missing swatches. Trickles of blood oozed from the raw places where he’d torn his facial hair out. Lady Orwen slid down the wall to sit with her head resting on her knees. Weijia bent at the waist, her hands on her mid-thighs. I squatted, my hands resting on top of my head. Sweat rolled down my cheeks as I tried to slow my breathing.
A few minutes later, I rose, and beckoned for the others to come upright as well. “We can’t rest for long. We need to find some allies, and avenge our fallen.”
“Avenge? Have you become a Dwarf, then?”
“No, Your Highness. I’ve always been a believer in vengeance. I never had cause for such before.”
Lady Orwen’s cute nose wrinkled. “Always?”
I nodded. “Indeed. I think the belief stems from my childhood.”
“Would you speak more of this?” She leaned forward.
“Perhaps later, Milady. As I said earlier, we can’t stop for long.” I glanced to Durrgedenn. “You should take the lead. You’re stronger than me, so you’ll be able to better aid the ladies.”
Weijia cleared her throat. “Are you forgetting that I am half dragon, Carter? I think I’m stronger than the Dwarf.”
Durrgedenn straightened, ready to object.
“Any other time, I might agree with you, Weijia. However, his body has not been tortured for the last few months. I don’t want to risk your safety, nor that of anyone else if you’re not all the way healed. Alright?”
“No. I can fight, Carter. Let me.”
“Don’t argue with me. This is a command decision. You elected to follow me, remember?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I don’t think less of you for what you went through.” I tapped my collar. “I went through the same thing.”
Lady Orwen came over and examined it. “Carter, what is this?”
“A shock collar, placed on me by L’Arc demons and used to control and punish me.”
“Why isn’t it being used now?”
“I don’t know. I’m worried. Belial is up to something, but I don’t know what.”
“Odds are, he’s tracking you,” Durrgedenn growled.
“Comforting thought.”
“Why didn’t you mention it before?” Lady Orwen’s voice was stern.
“No time. Big demon, and other things, remember?”
Durrgedenn snorted laughter at my words, turned, and scrambled up the ladder. I scratched at the pink moss on my belly.
Chapter 12
1
Durrgedenn and I lay on our bellies, peering over the crest of a hill. Belial’s army was behind us, following our trail. They were too far away for us to make out individual demons. I sighed and glanced at my companion. “Okay. You were right. We are being followed. Any ideas how?”
The Clan Leader shook his head, his patchy beard waving in the breeze. If you looked close, you could see the scabs from where he tore his facial hair out. “I think we should try to capture one and make it talk.”
“I don’t see that happening, somehow. They’re demons, remember.”
“Good point. Let’s find out if Lady Orwen has any ideas.”
We crept down the back of the tor, and trotted to our companions.
“Are they following us?” Weijia asked.
“Yes. I’m willing to bet with this.” I tapped the collar. I glanced at Adora. “Your Highness, can you sense anything about this thing?”
She reached out and touched her slender fingers to the metal. Her eyes turned white, and glowed. When they returned to their normal piercing blue, she shook her hand as if burned. “It’s tainted by the Hells. It’s presence here corrupts the natural world.”
“Good to know.” I nodded, scratching my belly. “But am I being tracked by it?”
She glared at me. “I was getting to that, Carter. A tracking spell is on the collar.”
“Wonderful. Would you be able to remove this blasted thing?”
“Yes, I — ”
A flash of light and a crash of thunder interrupted her. I was knocked on my ass, my vision fogging. I shook my head, and rubbed my eyes. I heard a familiar voice.
“Enoyreve, pots!”
I rolled to my feet, and saw her, my Rishka. “Dearbhaile.”
She turned to me. Her face was ageless, neither old nor young, though in it was written the memory of many things both glad and sorrowful. Her hair, a fiery dark orange like a maple leaf in the fall in
direct light; her eyes were emerald and in them a light as of the stars. Thought and new knowledge were in her glance which pierced me to my innermost secrets. The lady’s grace was such she seemed to glide across the ground as she approached.
As I drank in the sight of her, I felt weightless like gravity had vanished. My mouth stretched in a goofy grin. She wore an electric blue robe trimmed in white. The way she moved had me sweating and my pulse racing. “Carter.” Her poetic voice enraptured me as always.
A stinging slap rocked me on my heels. “What were ye thinkin’? Why did ye nae listen tae me when I said we could fin’ another way?” Another slap made my ears ring, and sent her hair over her face. “Why did I have tae suffer fer two months thinking ye might have been killed?”
My right cheek was on fire. The eye on that side watered. ‘Shit that hurt. How did she get here?’ A third slap, on the left this time, snapped me out of my daze. The world snapped to a crawl, my perceptions shifted. A fourth slap came across my cheek, then a splash of blood struck her eyes as a meter long spike erupted from my chest. A demon was behind me. It had the lower body of a skeletal horse, the torso of a man, the head of a sickly ram with the face of a fly and had spiked bone for arms. One of those had been rammed through my back while Dearbhaile slapped me.
The world snapped back to its normal movement. I caught Dearbhaile’s arm, and yanked her to the ground. At the same time, I side-stepped and spun. The demon’s arm went through the air. My move had caught the fiend by surprise: the monstrosity almost toppled over. Durrgedenn charged the beast with his sword and a mighty cry. I regained my balance and drew my sword in time for his shout to be cut off with a sickening crunch.
I bellowed a challenge. The demon lunged, thrusting both its arms forward to impale me. I blocked one with my blade, cracking the metal, and the other with my bare hand, which got laid open to the bone. I yelled with the pain, and anger.
“Ezeerf!” Dearbhaile yelled. The demon made a sound I took to be laughter. The creature may have been asking her on a date for all I could understand the insectile noise. “Nrub!”