by Duncan Pile
“Same here,” Gaspi said, grinning. “I should have said hello earlier. Sorry about that.”
“Not to worry. You had other things to worry about.”
Gaspi grunted in agreement. “I can hardly believe you’re here, around all these people. I can’t believe you went to Helioport!”
Heath grimaced. “I can’t say I find it comfortable,” he said seriously, “but the spirits were very clear, and I do as they bid.”
“So they definitely want us all to be together?” Gaspi asked.
“Yes they do. Of that, there can be no doubt.”
Gaspi harrumphed. He felt a little threatened by the implications of what Heath was saying. If staying together was what the elementals wanted, then leaving Emmy behind had been the wrong thing to do.
“What’s the matter?” Heath asked.
Gaspi opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Hephistole: “Okay everyone, gather round!” Everyone drifted in towards the logs surrounding the fire pit. As people took their seats, Emmy squeezed herself between Lydia and Rimulth, leaving Gaspi no room at all, so he sat next to Taurnil instead.
“I’m leaving for Helioport before the day is out, so I thought we should take the opportunity to share our news. Anyone mind if I go first?” Nobody objected, so he started by apologising for the self-indulgent way he’d behaved back in Helioport, making it clear he didn’t blame any of the questors for taking things into their own hands, just as he had previously with Gaspi. He told them about Heath turning up, and without going into any detail, explained that the druid had made him see sense.
Heath spoke next, though he was clearly uncomfortable having so many eyes on him. He spoke briefly and without embellishment, keeping his eyes on Gaspi the whole time, as if he was talking to him alone and the others just happened to be listening in. He told them about the elementals arriving at his home, and how in their way they had let him know their wishes. He told them how, with much reluctance, he had left his forest home behind and travelled to Helioport.
Gaspi interrupted him at that point, asking if the fire spirit was the same one that had accompanied them to the Measure, but Heath said it wasn’t. Gaspi wanted to ask further questions, but Heath forestalled him, saying he only knew what he’d been shown by the elementals - that this spirit was serving in the first fire spirit’s place. Heath continued his story, explaining that come what may, he was staying with the elementals, which in turn meant that he was coming with them on the quest. Gaspi already knew this from Hephistole, but he felt elated at hearing it a second time nonetheless. He had first come to terms with his destiny in Heath’s company, guided in part by the druid’s wisdom, and having him along on the quest would make him feel infinitely more confident.
Hephistole spoke again after that, talking about the night Gaspi and the others had transported out of Helioport:
“There’s something you all need to know,” he said calmly. “The Darkman is loose.”
“What?” Talmo said, rising to his feet. Disconcerted murmuring broke out around the circle. Gaspi glanced at Rimulth, who had gone pale beneath his tan. The tribesmen from Eagle’s Roost had seen the Darkman when it first emerged into this plane. The death of their head-shaman had provided the power needed for the transformation to happen, and the first thing it had done was murder one of their friends.
“Please, everyone calm down,” Hephistole said. Talmo sat down again, and the murmuring died away, but the mood in the group was tense.
“How do you know this?” Sabu asked.
“Because it was in Helioport on the night you transported out.”
“What happened?” Voltan asked sharply. “Was anyone killed?”
“Nobody was killed,” Hephistole responded. “It climbed the tower, searching for its prey, and finding nothing, it left again.”
“Its prey?” Baard asked. “You mean it was comin’ after us?”
“Not all of you,” Hephistole said. “The Darkman is a creature of violence. There is no doubt that, given free rein, it would run rampant through Helioport, slaughtering all that it found. But as soon as you transported out, it turned and began to pursue you once again. We must conclude therefore that it is fully under Sestin’s control, and that he has commanded it to kill a specific person.” Gaspi shuddered, realising where this was going. It was obvious when you thought about it. Sestin had sent Ferast to the Measure, and it would be foolish to assume his mission was anything other than to kill him. The disturbed boy may even have done so if he hadn’t got distracted by his hatred for Everand. If the Darkman had been sent to Helioport, there was only one conclusion Gaspi could reach.
“Who?” Baard asked.
“Me,” Gaspi responded quietly, meeting and holding Hephistole’s gaze.
“Yes I believe so,” Hephistole said. Gaspi repressed a second shudder, remembering what Hephistole had told him of the Darkman in the past. Its victims did not merely die – their souls were corrupted, unable to pass through to the afterlife until the demon was destroyed. They lived in perpetual torment, tainted by its unnatural touch. He looked at Emmy but she refused to look back and he felt another surge of disbelief and anger. How could she think he was wrong to do what he did when it saved him from the Darkman? Surely she didn’t want him to fall into its clutches?
“I don’t want to alarm you Gaspi, but you should know the truth,” Hephistole said, recapturing his attention. “I believe you transported out only moments before it would have reached you. It left a trail of destruction, which stopped right outside Voltan’s window.”
“Sheesh,” Taurnil said, a sentiment which was echoed around the circle.
So we got out just in time,” Gaspi said, looking pointedly at Emmy, but after catching his gaze, she swiftly looked away again.
“It looks that way,” Hephistole responded.
“Where is it now?” Sabu asked, idly fingering the pommels of his swords.
“We have no way of knowing how fast it travels,” Hephistole said. “We’ve seen it move, and it is fleet of foot – as fast as a galloping horse perhaps – but Helioport is hundreds of miles distant from here, so you have some time yet. You should set out tomorrow at first light and head for the Thundering Gorge. It is over two weeks journey North and West of here, high in the first true peaks of the Broken Ranges. If you can get beyond the gorge, it will not be able to follow you.”
“We know it,” Zlekic said. “A great gash in the land hundreds of feet across. But there’s no way to cross.”
“Yes there is,” Hephistole said slyly. He reached inside his cloak and pulled out a section of the enchanted amulet. “I took this from Stragos’ bungalow, with his permission of course. It acts as a lodestone, just as the part in Helioport does. Voltan already carries a section of the amulet, which you can use to transport to this device on command. Essentially, this means you could stand over there, speak the command, and end up over here,” he added, holding the device up for their inspection. “I have changed the word of command that will enable you to reach this part of the amulet. Instead of ‘transport to Arkright’, you must say ‘Convoke’.
“But how can we use it to get across the gorge?” Taurnil asked. “I mean, wouldn’t that part have to be on the other side?” he clarified, pointing at the amulet dangling from Hephistole’s fist.
“The elementals,” Sabu interjected.
“Of course,” Taurnil said. “The hawk could carry it across. That’s brilliant.”
“There’s no way the Darkman could make it across. The current is such it would sweep even the strongest creature away, and the gorge runs for many miles in either direction,” Hephistole said. “It will slow the Darkman down, forcing it to take a lengthy detour.”
Voltan rose to his feet. “We should set off,” he said, looking around as if expecting everyone to follow suit. Of everyone in the group, the warrior mage had least enjoyed waiting in the thicket, and now that he saw the way forward, he wanted to get back on with the quest straight away
.
“Not quite yet Voltan,” Hephistole said. “You left in such a hurry you left all your enchanted equipment behind. I’ll stay here with Stragos’ part of the amulet. You can transport back to Helioport and equip yourselves in a more desirable fashion, and then come right back again. How does that sound?”
“I want the bow,” Taurnil said, standing up.
“Your wish is my command!” Hephistole said with a wink.
“The Wizard’s Eye!” Gaspi said, remembering the rare artefact with a surge of excitement. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”
…
Gaspi sat on the cold stone floor of the tower basement, recovering from the effects of long distance transportation. Hephistole must have had the foresight to leave the amulet down there before leaving the city. He looked around at the group; Heath had refused to subject himself to transportation, and had stayed in the thicket with Hephistole, Fortunate and Bret, but all the warriors, Emmy, Lydia, Rimulth and Voltan had come along, eager to pick through the horde of enchanted treasures.
He glanced at the door leading up to the Atrium. If he stepped through that door, he’d see and hear the sounds and sights of Helioport. It was such a surreal thought, as if the dangerous journey and the desperate battle with the hermit had all been a dream! He felt such a hunger for the familiar in that moment, but he instinctively knew it would mess with his mind and forced himself to abandon the idea. Baard on the other hand, had no such reservations - the giant was already striding towards the exit, his hand reaching for the doorknob.
“Anyone up fer a drink?” he asked, grinning broadly. His hand was on the doorknob, ready to turn it.
“Baard!” Voltan barked. “Get back here!”
Baard’s face fell. He looked genuinely hurt. “It’d just be a quick’un,” he whined. “We’ve bin travellin’ fer weeks – eatin’ lentils an’ drinkin’ water. We’ve got the chance of a proper meal!”
“Don’t be a fool,” Voltan said, striding over to him, but Taurnil spoke up before the warrior mage could reach him.
“We can’t do it Baard. Nobody will have seen us for weeks, and Trask will have covered our backs with some story or other. This is a secret quest and it has to stay that way.”
Baard’s hand fell from the doorknob. “I guess tha’ makes sense.” Gaspi didn’t think he’d ever seen a person look more disappointed.
“Can we get on with what we came here for?” Voltan snapped, and paced over to the weapons rack. Baard followed in his wake, mumbling all the while.
“…could’ve bin nicer about it…” he grumbled as he passed Gaspi, who pushed himself off the floor and tagged along. Voltan was already loosening the far end of the cloth, so Gaspi started from the near end, freeing handfuls of black material and dropping it to the floor as he went. A gleaming array of weaponry and armour was revealed, drawing in the crowd of warriors, but Gaspi went straight to the section of shelving at the end, his eyes flicking covetously from item to item.
He moved the coil of rope and picked out the Wizard’s Eye, mesmerised by the swirling, misty substance within. Slipping it into his pocket, he reached out for the other items he wanted, only to bump someone next to him with his elbow. It was Emmy, standing on tiptoes to peer down at the top shelf of enchanted treasures. She dropped back to the flats of her feet.
“Do you mind?” she asked archly.
“I didn’t mean to!” Gaspi said, irritated by her reaction. He wanted to say more but he bit his lip. He wasn’t going to risk another bust-up! He shuffled round to the back of the shelving, giving her and the other magicians more room. Pushing aside his irritation, he ignored everyone else and looked carefully at the collection of enchanted objects. He couldn’t see what he was looking for at first, but then he spotted it on the middle shelf – a plain silver ring, small enough to go on his little finger. He had been particularly taken by the ring the first time he’d seen it – it enhanced the wearer’s vision, making it possible to look into the distance with a bewildering level of detail, and even to see in the dark. He picked it up and tried it on, and was just as impressed with it as he had been the first time. Even looking at the plain shelving before him, he could see the wooden fibres, every tiny splinter standing out in relief. Satisfied, he slipped it off and dropped it into his pocket along with the Wizard’s Eye.
Next, he went for a belt that was layered with a neuromantic enchantment. When power was channelled into it, it would make him seem entirely trustworthy to anyone he was talking to. He picked it up, running his hands over the tooled leather, wondering how well the enchantment would hold – leather wasn’t the best material for holding magic after all. A close inspection revealed that silver thread was intricately worked into the strap, and the buckle itself was made of silver too. Silver held enchantment better than almost anything, which made the belt more appealing.
Voltan joined them at the shelving. “That’s a good choice,” he said, looking at the belt in Gaspi’s hand.
“I thought so,” Gaspi responded.
“What else have you got?” Gaspi reached into his pocket and withdrew the ring and the Wizard’s Eye. “Someone needs to take the Eye,” Voltan said. “It may as well be you. The Ring of Sight is a good choice too, but I think you also need something to grant you invisibility. What’s left?” He picked up the stack of parchment that described each item and skipped to the appropriate page. “There are three listed here. A bangle, a necklace and a hair clip.”
“I’ve got the clip,” Lydia said, holding out the ornate adornment for Voltan to see. It was made of a translucent, reddish material that wasn’t glass and wasn’t stone, and was heavily patterned with natural swirls.
“I’ve got the bangle,” Emmy said, holding it out as well. It was a silver-studded leather strap – far too big for her delicate wrist.
Voltan picked up the necklace, holding it out in the palm of his hand. It was made of delicate silver links, from which dangled a finely set teardrop amethyst. “Why don’t you take this and give Gaspi the bangle?” he said to Emmy.
Emmy paused a moment. “I like the bangle,” she said slyly.
“But isn’t the necklace more suitable?” Voltan said, looking confused.
“I just like it,” Emmy said, closing her fist over the bangle and folding her arms defensively.
“Emea…” Voltan started, but Gaspi interrupted him.
“Honestly, just forget it. I’ll take the necklace.” He scooped it out of Voltan’s hand and dropped it in his pocket.
Voltan looked at Gaspi with a perplexed expression and then shrugged. “As you wish.” He turned back to Emea and Lydia. “So what else are you two taking?”
Gaspi walked away, fuming at Emmy’s petty behaviour. He had to sort things out with her and soon, not least because if she kept acting like this, he’d be in a constant fury! Seeing Taurnil, he walked over to join him.
Taurnil looked up as he approached, holding out his longbow for Gaspi to inspect. “Just look at it,” he said, his eyes as wide as saucers. Gaspi didn’t have much appreciation for weaponry. He understood the balance of a good dagger, but that was about it. Even so, the bow itself was beautifully made, its sinuous shape speaking of both elegance and strength. It was carved from pale wood – Gaspi thought it might be ash – its natural grain brought out by several coats of carefully applied varnish. That alone would be enough to make Taurnil love it, but it was heavily enchanted for extra distance, extra impact, and the arrows were unbreakable. Most impressive of all, the arrows reappeared in their quiver after being shot. Hephistole had laid the complex cooperation of enchantments on it himself, and Gaspi had no doubt the bow would do exactly as described. He glanced at a quiver of pale-fletched arrows Taurnil had slung over his shoulder.
“Are those the arrows?” he asked.
“Uh huh!” Taurnil said, taking the bow back with exaggerated care.
“You taking anything else?” Gaspi asked.
“Nah! The gear you enchanted for the Meas
ure already does everything I want. I’ve got my staff, the boots, and all my armour is unbreakable. I figured I’d leave the rest to the others. What about you? Got what you wanted?”
“Sure,” Gaspi answered, but he was still irritated by Emmy’s behaviour, and he couldn’t summon much enthusiasm for showing Taurnil his stuff.
“You alright mate?” Taurnil asked.
“It’s Emmy,” Gaspi said quietly, making sure she wouldn’t overhear. “She’s being a pain.”
“I noticed,” Taurnil said. “Look, just get her on her own later and have a talk. She’ll come round. Lydia seems fine!”
“I hope you’re right,” Gaspi said, but he wasn’t sure it was going to be that easy. “I’ll try and talk to her tonight.” He ferreted in his pockets, bringing out a handful of enchanted items. “Check out what I got…”
…
When they arrived back in the clearing, Hephistole waited for Gaspi to recover and then took him aside. “What did you choose?” he asked.
“The belt, the Ring of Sight, an item granting invisibility, and The Wizard’s Eye,” Gaspi responded, wanting to avoid another discussion about the necklace.
“Those are sensible choices. With the exception of the Wizard’s Eye, the other items use either neuromancy or healing, neither of which you are adept in.”
“That’s exactly why I chose them,” Gaspi said.
Hephistole reached within his cloak and drew out a small cloth pouch, tied tight with a drawstring. “I have one more item for you. Hold out you hand.”
Mystified, Gaspi did as he was told. “What is it?” he asked, as Hephistole loosened the drawstring.
“Something you must use only in the direst emergency,” Hephistole responded, tipping the contents of the pouch into Gaspi’s hand. Something cold and surprisingly heavy for its size landed there. A figurine! Gaspi drew it close, examining it in detail. It was a highly detailed likeness of a two-headed creature, forged out of silver. It looked old, the metal heavily tarnished from handling. One head was like a lion, its eyes tiny rubies that glinted deep red even in the shade. The second head was like a goat, only fiercer and more muscular, with wicked, curving horns and white seed pearls for eyes. Its body was thick and heavily muscled, with claws on the front legs and hooves on the back. A thick, sinuous tail curved up from the creature’s rump, arching over its back, and when Gaspi looked closely he could see it was a snake, every miniscule tooth and scale carved in perfect detail.