by Duncan Pile
…
The air spirit had chosen another overhang for them to wait under, this one deep and cave-like, and although there was no obscuring scrub to cover the entrance, they could skulk in the shadows should they need to hide. The air spirit took off once more, and the long, boring wait resumed.
“This is getting old,” Taurnil said, too restless to sit down.
“Old but safe,” Emmy said.
“Hush! What’s that?” Talmo whispered. The sound of heavy footsteps on shale sounded from somewhere nearby. They froze in place, listening intently. The footsteps started again, and they were getting louder.
“It landed somewhere ’round ’ere,” someone grunted in guttural common.
“I saw it take off agin,” another voice said, louder and deeper than the first.
“There might be others. Young’uns,” the first voice said.
“Good thinkin’,” the deeper voice responded. “What about in the cave?”
Voltan gestured to Talmo, who silently drew his bow from over his shoulder and nocked an arrow. Taurnil and Rimulth followed suit. Gaspi waited, breathless, his heart beating swiftly. Voltan caught his eye and shook his head. Gaspi nodded in return, knowing exactly what he meant – no magic! They could always draw on their power if things got desperate, but by the sound of it there were only two ogres out there, and using magic might alert the shamans to their presence.
The footsteps got nearer. “Can’t see nothin’,” one of them said.
“’old on,” the deeper voice responded. The footsteps drew nearer again, the crunch of shale so crisp it could have come from within the overhang.
Talmo rose soundlessly to his feet and shot the surprised-looking ogre in the chest. The other ogre stood in stunned amazement for a moment, then let out a bellow of rage and ran right at the tribesman. Taurnil and Rimulth rose as one and shot at the charging foe, but they didn’t kill it. Rimulth’s arrow landed true, dead centre in its forehead, but it bounced off the creature’s thick skull. Taurnil’s arrow landed in its chest, but ricocheted off a rib and got snagged in the thick muscle of its torso. Rage became fear and the ogre turned to run. It made it a dozen yards before Talmo’s second arrow took it in the neck, dropping it instantly. The ground actually shook with the heavy thud of its body hitting the ground. Talmo and Rimulth retrieved their arrows, but Taurnil didn’t have to – his enchanted arrows had reappeared in his quiver.
“Drag them inside,” Voltan hissed. Talmo, Taurnil and Rimulth tried to draw them into the shadows but their bodies were heavy and they made slow progress. Gaspi, Voltan and Baard joined them, and soon enough they dragged them into concealment. Close up, the dead ogres were even uglier than they’d seemed from a distance. Their skin was lumpy and grey, their yellowed nails long, broken and filthy, and their hair was matted. Most noticeably, they stank! Gaspi let go of the ogre’s ankle and staggered away from it, spluttering as he went.
“That’s disgusting,” Lydia said, rising to her feet and joining Gaspi on the far side of the overhang. Soon enough the whole party had joined them, putting as much distance between themselves and the stinking corpses as possible. That is with the exception of Baard, who seemed determined to inspect them.
“Nasty-lookin’ things aren’ they?” he said, sounding very pleased with himself. Gaspi smirked to himself. Perhaps the giant was happy to come across something bigger and uglier than he was! Baard bent down, leaning in to get a closer view of one of their faces, but he let out an unmanly yelp when its eyes opened. The ogre reached up and grabbed him by the throat, its hand encircling the thick muscles of his neck. Sabu was the first to act, his scimitar flashing into his hand as if by magic. He darted forward, and drew it across the ogre’s throat. Blood spurted from the wound, spattering Baard’s face and beard. Its hand loosened and the blood-soaked giant pulled away, spitting out gobs of dark-red fluid.
“That’s foul!” he said, wiping ogre blood from his face with his cloak and spitting several more times to make sure his mouth was clear. “Can’t believe he was still alive.”
“I hate to say it Baard, but this one’s a woman,” Sabu said, wiping his sword clean on the dead ogre’s skins.
“A woman?” Baard said incredulously. He lurched to his feet and peered down on the corpse for long, silent seconds. “Well I’ll be damned!”
Gaspi stepped over to have a look, braving the smell. It was a woman alright. It wasn’t immediately obvious – she was as ugly as sin and big as a horse, but it was there in the slight curve of her hips, and a chest that, on closer inspection, was well-rounded rather than heavily muscled. Then he remembered, one had spoken with a deeper voice than the other.
A mischievous smile tugged on Taurnil’s lips. “You didn’t have to kill her Sabu! She only wanted a kiss,” he said. Gaspi burst out laughing. All they’d known for days was fear and tension, and it burst out of him with force.
“Shut it!” Baard said.
“When he’s right he’s right Baard,” Sabu said. “She probably thought you were an ogre.” Several people were laughing now.
Taurnil squinted at the giant. “You do look like an ogre.”
Sabu took a sniff. “And smell like one!”
Even Heath joined in with the others, snorted loudly in amusement.
“You…I’ll…” Baard spluttered.
“That’s enough!” Voltan said, cutting through the good mood like a knife. “There could be more of them out there.”
“Sorry Voltan,” Sabu said, but the blademaster was still smiling. Gaspi’s smirk fell right off his face, however. They all needed a laugh right now – it was the only thing that made things bearable sometimes, and it was just like Voltan to dampen things down. He found himself wondering uncharitably whether the warrior mage was really thinking of the quest, or whether he was just uncomfortable with the camaraderie. He’d tried to stop the twins telling their stories round the campfire many a time, and they certainly hadn’t been in danger then. At the thought of the twins, Gaspi felt a wave of guilt that he should be laughing so soon after their death, but then he remembered their jovial nature, their constant joking, and decided they would approve. Besides, they were only having a laugh to ease the tension, but Voltan had put a stop to that. Gaspi respected the warrior mage as a leader and a fighter, but sometimes he found his stern demeanour difficult to take. Swallowing his resentment, he sat in aggrieved silence, waiting for the air spirit to find their next hiding place.
When Rimulth eventually gave them the nod, they gathered around, linking arms in preparation to transport.
“What was that Baard?” Taurnil asked, as if Baard had spoken. Gaspi glanced at him, confused. The giant hadn’t said anything. “No you can’t bring your girlfriend,” Taurnil said. Laughter broke out once again, despite Voltan’s earlier remonstration. Baard thumped Taurnil on the arm, hard, and Taurnil let go of the person next to him to rub at it.
“That’s enough!” Voltan hissed. “Pull yourselves together!” The sniggering stopped.
“Gaspi!” Voltan said.
Gaspi nodded stiffly. “Everyone ready?” he asked, looking round the group to make sure everyone was touching. “Convoke!”
Thirty-three
Furious winds assaulted them the instant they reappeared, whistling through their clothing and chilling their ears. Within moments, Gaspi’s nose was red and his eyes were watering. At his command, the air spirit took control of the wind, and the fearsome bluster dropped away, leaving them in an island of calm. It was still extremely cold, but out of the wind it was bearable. The spirit had chosen a cleft in the rock, way up in the mountains. Behind them was a view of the terrain they’d already passed through, and ahead of them was another valley, thick with ogre settlements. Far in the distance was another pass, beyond which towered a single peak, taller than any of the others by far.
“Temple Spike,” Voltan said.
“Are you sure?” Gaspi asked, assuming that was the name of the peak upon which nestled the Templ
e of El-Amyari. “I don’t see the temple.”
“It’s on the western side,” Voltan said. “You can’t see it from here.”
“So what do we do now?” Sabu asked.
“We carry on as we have been,” Voltan said.
“It’s going to be a much longer wait this time,” Sabu responded. “No more short hops.”
Gaspi looked to see what Sabu was talking about, and quickly realised what the blademaster meant. The valley that lay before them was the most densely populated so far. The ogres had built their crude stone houses on every available area of ground, which meant the settlements climbed half way up the valley sides, clinging precariously to the rock until it became impossible to do so. Above the last line of houses there was nothing but bare rock, too steep to transport to and providing no shelter whatsoever. From where they stood, it looked like there was nowhere safe between them and the next pass, which was a fair distance away.
“There’s nowhere to hide,” Gaspi said.
“I see what you mean,” Voltan said. “Let’s eat something and re-evaluate.” They hunkered down in the cleft, where they couldn’t be seen from either side of the pass. Heath broke out the rations, and Voltan retrieved a folded sheaf of parchment from his pack and flattened it against the stone.
“What’s that Voltan?” Baard asked.
“It’s a map of the temple,” he said. “I’m looking to see how close we are to the caves.”
“What caves?”
“The main route up the pass will be heavily guarded, but I’ve always intended that we enter the complex from below,” Voltan explained. “This map shows the layout of the temple. If you look carefully at the cellars, you can see a tunnel running from the lowest cellar, down into the mountain. “Here, take a look.” He passed the map to Baard, pointing out the spot in question. Baard frowned at it for a moment, shrugged and passed it on to Sabu. The map was passed around the group until Taurnil placed it in Gaspi’s hands, pointing out the tunnel Voltan was referring to. Gaspi peered carefully at the details of the map, scribed in close lines and cramped, spidery writing. The cross section of the temple showed a large structure, its foundations nestled deep into the rock. If he peered closely enough he could make out the cellars, and sure enough there seemed to be a tunnel, leading down from the most subterranean of the cellars and delving deep into the heart of the mountain. There was no indication of how far it went, but directly below, a single word was scrawled across the body of the peak – ‘Labyrinth’. Just reading it gave Gaspi the shivers. “What’s a Labyrinth?” he asked.
“A labyrinth is a maze, but one made of stone,” Lydia answered.
“Exactly,” Voltan said. “It implies the tunnel leading to the cellars is one of many, an underground network we might be able to find a way through.”
“Yeah but how do we get in there?” Gaspi asked. They were stuck on the heights, with ogre settlements ahead of them for as far as they could see.
“The entrance is marked on the map, though I doubt it is the only one,” Voltan said.
Gaspi searched the map again, and sure enough, an entrance to the Labyrinth was marked at the base of Temple Spike.
“So we send the air spirit all the way there?” Gaspi asked.
“If they know about the entrance, it will be guarded,” Voltan responded. “There’s a shoulder of rock before Temple Spike, a pass of sorts, but at a much lower altitude than this one. It should provide us with some cover, and from there we should get a view of the entrance.”
Gaspi nodded. “You got that?” he asked the air spirit. It turned its head, fixing him with one of its storm grey eyes and giving a cry of acknowledgement. “Stay safe,” Gaspi said, and a moment later it took off, winging its way northwards towards Temple Spike. The moment it was gone, savage, freezing cold winds tore at them, numbing their extremities in a matter of heartbeats.
Voltan’s map almost flew out of Gaspi’s hands, but he grabbed it and stuffed it within his cloak. “Oh crap!” he said. He’d forgotten that the elemental was protecting them, and it looked like the elemental had too! Either that or it didn’t understand their human frailties.
“Huddle up!” Voltan shouted over the wind. They did their best, pressing tightly into the group and spreading their cloaks over each other, but no matter what they did, the wind cut right through every tiny gap. Gaspi had one arm around Emmy and the other pressed up against Taurnil’s side, but it didn’t help. He felt like he was freezing to the spot, and it was getting worse by the moment! They were stuck there for as long as it took for the air spirit to reach the next pass, which could be hours.
Very quickly, it became clear that they couldn’t wait that long. Emmy was already shaking badly on one side of him and Taurnil’s breath was coming in rapid shallow gulps on the other. Gaspi’s nose, ears and fingers stung in the freezing wind, and he was starting to shake as well. If they stayed like this for too long, they’d be in deep trouble.
Gaspi made up his mind. “VOLTAN!” he shouted over the wind. “WE NEED A SHIELD!” he called.
The warrior mage lifted his head. “WHAT?”
“WE…NEED…A…SHIELD!”
The warrior mage hesitated a moment, pursing blue-tinged lips. “OKAY!” he called at last, conceding defeat to the elements. Gaspi didn’t hesitate - he drew on his powers and crafted a powerful air shield, surrounding them in its protective circle. Everyone fell back with cries of relief, but Gaspi didn’t stop there. Every last person was shaking from the cold and in danger of suffering from exposure. Delicately, he drew on the sun’s rays, using the energy contained within to warm the air. The use of magic would probably be detected by the ogre shamans, but it was either that or freeze.
“What the heck happened?” Taurnil asked.
“It’s my fault,” Gaspi said. “The air spirit was protecting us from the wind, but only because I told it to. I don’t think it understands what we can and can’t handle.” Gaspi responded. “I forgot all about it, and when it left, its protection left with it!”
“We have to assume the shamans sensed that,” Voltan said. “The arcane signature was too strong to hope otherwise.”
Gaspi nodded. “Then it’s up to the air spirit to find somewhere to transport to as quickly as possible.”
“Will you keep a look out with the Eye?” Voltan said.
“More magic?” Taurnil said.
Voltan shook his head. “It’s like the amulets,” he said. “When Gaspi uses it I can’t feel a thing. The only danger is that a shaman might see the visual imprint of the Eye as he explores, but it is extremely faint, and he will be high above any approaching enemies.”
“I’ll do it straight away,” Gaspi said. He tied off the spells protecting them from the elements, withdrew the pouch containing the Wizard’s Eye from his pocket and tipped the artefact into his hand. He channelled power into it, closed his eyes, and felt that noticeable shift in his vision. He opened his eyes to find himself hovering a foot above the ground; a disembodied, substance-less eye. He sped away from the group, zipping through the pass to look down on the valley to the North of them.
Voltan’s fears were justified; a large group of ogres were climbing the pass from the valley below, speeding purposefully in their direction. Gaspi flew out as far as the magic would let him and did a quick head count. There were about twenty of them. At that distance, he couldn’t make out much in the way of detail, but several of them had bone white hair – something he hadn’t seen yet among the Urzaaks and Kaas. Perhaps those were the shamans. Gaspi looked at the approaching enemy force. They’d faced worse odds, but never against opponents as fierce and strong as these. The long-legged ogres were making fast progress, jogging relentlessly up the slope as if it was level ground. Gaspi tried to estimate how long it would take them to reach their hiding place; a couple of hours maybe. Perhaps even less.
He dispelled the magic of the Eye. “There are about twenty of them, and I think some of them are shamans. They’re heading here fa
st.” Everyone was on their feet in moments.
“How long?” Voltan asked.
“Two hours maybe, but I’m not sure. I’ll keep checking.” People started sitting down again, realising they had a little time.
“The air spirit might reach the far end of the valley before they arrive,” Voltan said. “If it doesn’t, we have a fight on our hands.”
“Twenty doesn’t sound too bad,” Baard said.
“Yeah but you should count five men for every ogre,” Gaspi said. “And we don’t know what the shamans are capable of yet.”
“They won’t all reach us,” Talmo said, fingering the curve of his bow.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Sabu said.
“Rimulth, can you let us know how the air spirit is doing?” Gaspi asked.
“Of course,” Rimulth said.
…
Rimulth leaned back against his pack and closed his eyes, blocking out distractions so he could tune into the air spirit’s thoughts. Much more so than any time previously, his awareness was flooded with the elemental’s presence. He could feel what it was feeling! The experience was so intense Rimulth instinctively drew back from the bond. His connection with the air spirit had grown significantly since embarking on the quest. He’d experimented with wind before, but what he’d achieved at Ironhall had been on another level altogether! Somehow, he’d just known what to do, finding the wisdom and power he needed through the bond. Since then, he’d become increasingly aware of the spirit’s presence. Sometimes it made him afraid of what would happen if the spirit was killed. Lydia had been all but destroyed by such a tragedy, and he’d had longer to bond with the air spirit. How much more devastating would it be if it happened to him now?