by Duncan Pile
They ignored the wide wyrm-tunnels and headed for a rectangular opening instead. They ran within and stopped at the foot of a stairwell. It was a welcome sight – the first man-made thing they’d seen since entering the Labyrinth, and hopefully a sign that they were getting closer to the temple.
The fire spirit’s magic still protected them but Gaspi couldn’t see any sign of the ensnaring skein of light. “Are we safe Lydia?” he asked.
Lydia went still, as if listening intently. “We’re safe.” The fire spirit dispelled its shield.
“Thanks Lyd,” Emmy said, throwing her arms around her friend.
“We owe you our lives,” Heath said. Everyone crowded around, kissing or embracing her despite her protestations. Finally, she got them all to back off.
“It was the fire spirit,” she said. The spirit snorted smoke next to her, tossing its head in acknowledgement.
“Then we thank you too,” Emmy said respectfully, echoed by a chorus of agreement. The fire spirit snorted again and curled up at Lydia’s feet.
“A dragon!” Heath breathed, leaning against the wall at his back and sinking into a crouch. “I thought the last of them had died out centuries ago.”
“I can hardly believe it,” Taurnil said, slumping onto the first stair.
“Me neither,” Sabu said, adding his voice to the chorus.
“What happened in there?” Emmy said. “One minute we were looking into the pit and then, well, you know. You were there.”
“Even in the sleep of ages, the dragon is powerful beyond our reckoning,” Heath responded.
“But what happened to us?” Emmy asked. “I mean, where were we?”
“I don’t really know,” the druid responded. “Somehow it captured our minds, but beyond that I couldn’t even hazard a guess. One thing I know for certain is that without the fire spirit’s protection, we’d all be done for.”
Lydia looked thoughtfully at the elemental. “Its magic is similar to the dragon’s somehow.”
“Its magic is of fire, much like a dragon’s,” Heath mused. “I don’t think its physical form is a coincidence.”
“There’s something in that,” Lydia said.
“And what about the words you spoke?” Heath asked. “Were they yours or the spirit’s?”
“They came from the fire spirit. I was just the channel.”
“Interesting,” Heath said, and fell silent for a moment. “A dragon!” he said at last, breaking into an uncharacteristic grin. “I will never forget this day!”
“I don’t think any of us will,” Rimulth said, smiling quietly to himself.
“I don’t think we should stay here for long,” Gaspi said. “There’s a long way to go yet, and it might be a good idea to put some distance between us and the dragon.”
“You sound like Voltan,” Taurnil grumbled. Gaspi thought ruefully of the missing warrior mage. He would have loved the chance to see a real life dragon.
…
Gaspi looked at the stairwell above him with apprehension. The stairs were unevenly cut, hewn from the very rock of the mountain. They clung to the edge of the chamber, a rising shelf of stone that left a vertigo-inducing drop in the middle. Gaspi didn’t like heights, and the further they climbed, the more discomforting that drop was going to become. The stairs didn’t even have any kind of banister to protect them from the fall! He knew it was stupid for him, a magician, to be afraid of such things, but it wasn’t a logical reaction. He just got dizzy when he approached any kind of serious drop.
“Why don’t you just magic us up to the top?” Taurnil asked, sharing some of Gaspi’s trepidation.
“Because I suspect we’re right below the temple,” Gaspi responded. “The shamans know we escaped into the mountain, but they might not know about the entrance into the cellar. If I use magic, they’ll know exactly where we are.”
“Well then I guess we should get going then,” Taurnil said.
“Yup, there’s nothing else for it,” Gaspi responded. “Everyone, it’s time to go.”
The group got to their feet, and then they were underway, putting one foot in front of the other as they began the long climb. Gaspi stuck right by the wall, staying as far away from the edge of the stairs as possible. Even the thought of the drop made him shudder! It wasn’t long before his thighs and calves were burning, a pain so intense it had him gasping. He wasn’t the only one suffering. In fact, there wasn’t a person among them whose face wasn’t set in a grimace.
From her harness on Baard’s back, Lilly sent out a trickle of healing magic, refreshing their tired muscles and relieving them of pain.
“Thanks Lilly,” Emmy said.
“She’s going to have to do that a lot,” Gaspi said. “This climb could take hours.”
“How long can you keep that up Lilly?” Emmy asked. She went quiet, listening for Lilly’s response. “Not for long,” she answered.
“Then it’s best not to do it at all,” Gaspi said. “We’ll just have to pace ourselves.”
The climb slowed to a crawl after that, putting one weary foot in front of the other and ignoring the burning pain in their legs for as long as possible. When it got too much, they stopped, collapsing on the stairs with heaving chests. Several times, Gaspi didn’t think he’d be able to get going again, his wobbling legs threatening to fail him entirely, but somehow he managed, stretched to the limit of his endurance.
They stopped for a longer rest around midday, and Heath gave them all some dried rations to chew on. They ate in silence, gathering every reserve they could for the next leg of the climb. They set off again, pushing past aches and pains that threatened to seize up their limbs. If they’d stopped for any longer they might have stiffened up too much to get moving again.
The afternoon passed in a blur of pain. Gaspi climbed with gritted teeth, pushing on for as long as he possibly could, but exhaustion forced them to take increasingly frequent breaks, and they made slow progress. Several times, Gaspi was tempted to use magic, but with the exception of the globe light, which took so little power it was practically undetectable, he daren’t risk giving their position away to the ogres. The success or failure of their quest depended on their ability to sneak into the temple complex unnoticed. However much it cost them, they owed it to themselves, to Voltan, to Hephistole and to the twins to push on.
An hour or two later, their day ended in crushing disappointment. The stairway topped out on a broad shelf of rock and went no further. The shelf led to what must once have been a passageway, but which had collapsed long ago.
“What do we do now?” Taurnil asked.
“We stop for the night and think it through,” Heath said.
Gaspi nodded. They were all way beyond exhausted, and the shelf was a much better place to sleep than the stairs. “Thanks goodness,” he sighed, and slumped to the ground. Everyone else followed suit, with the exception of Taurnil and Baard, who helped each other lift Loreill and Lilly from their harnesses before taking the weight off their feet.
Lilly scampered over to Emmy and threw herself into her lap. “She wants to heal us,” Emmy said, looking at Gaspi.
Gaspi looked at the others, leaning on their packs and breathing heavily. Grunts and moans sounded from around the group.
“Let her do it!” Baard groaned.
It seemed like a good idea. If they were going to climb any further that day it would be pointless – they’d be back in the same condition in no time! But they’d stopped for the day, and they were all in bad shape. “As long as Lilly has the strength.”
“She has,” Emmy responded, and within moments, sweet, healing power flooded his aching, agonised body, chasing out pain and discomfort and leaving him feeling refreshed.
Moans of relief sounded from all across the shelf. “Thank you Lilly,” Gaspi said.
“Aye, thanks,” Baard added, echoed by the others.
Once again, Gaspi thought about the importance of the elementals’ presence on the quest. The air spirit had en
abled him to rescue Emmy and Lydia from Ironhall, and had kept them ahead of the Darkman by carrying the amulet ahead of it time and time again. The fire spirit had saved them in battle and protected them from the dragon. Lilly had kept them healthy and even saved his life! Looking back, he realised once again how foolish he’d been to try and leave Emmy in Helioport. The only way they were getting through this was together!
He stared up at the darkness above them. The stairwell stretched up into shadow with no sign of a ceiling. Gaspi frowned. Why would the chamber continue after the stairs had stopped? That was tomorrow’s problem, he decided. For now, they needed to eat and get some rest. He hoped to reach the temple the next day, and if that happened, they were going to need their strength.
…
The wind roared in Orellio’s ears as Dier-Bevel dived, sunlight gleaming from the scales of the giant red’s neck. There was nothing as simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating as dragon flight, and Dier-Bevel was among the mightiest of his kind. Hundreds of yards below, the enemy looked up and scattered. The Tor-dal were brave fighters, but no-one stood in the way of dragon-fire and lived to tell the tale!
Dier-Bevel opened his fearsome jaws and roared, a torrent of fire splitting the air before them. A wave of heat rolled back over Orellio’s wyrm-skin armour. Their enemy was routed, fleeing the field as fast as their legs could carry them.
Dier-Bevel’s thoughts intruded on Orellio’s own. The dragon was lazily contemplating pursuing them, burning every last man to a crisp. Tempting, Orellio thought to himself, but not today. He tightened his grip on the harness as Dier-Bevel banked to the left, turning sharply and winging his way back towards the mountain.
…
Gaspi sat up, breathing heavily. He was exhilarated by the lingering dream, by the sights and sounds of dragon flight. It had been so real, like someone else’s memory than a dream. Just then, a wisp of colourful light floated past him – dragon thought!
He summoned a globe light, looking around in alarm, and sure enough, more wisps of colourful light floated through the air. Everyone was asleep, including Sabu, who appeared to have fallen asleep on his watch. Even as he watched, one of the wisps slipped up Emmy’s nostril as she inhaled. He opened his mouth to yell out a warning when a restraining presence brushed up against his consciousness. He recognised it as the fire spirit instantly. He looked over to find it watching him with coal-bright eyes. Its message was simple – don’t be afraid. I am in control.
Gaspi returned its gaze for another moment and then let his globe light dissipate. He trusted the elementals implicitly, and if the fire spirit said it was safe, then it was safe. He closed his eyes and abandoned himself to trust, wondering what dreams Emmy might be having.
…
The green soared through the air, hundreds of feet above the gleaming ranks of the vanguard as they marched to meet the enemy. They came on in their thousands, wearing tattered black armour and festooned with trailing wisps of dark cloth. At the forefront of the enemy army rode the necromancers, seated astride their perverted creations; malformed creatures, magically altered for strength and aggression. Many-tusked, venomous, heavy-clawed and snarling, the monsters were cowed only by the will of their masters. The necromancers wielded great power, greater than those of the magicians who refused to be seduced by dark practices but, in recent days, a discovery had been made that could turn the tide of this war; healing could be used as a weapon.
The great necromancers had twisted their souls beyond redemption. They were creatures of darkness now, and healing power could be turned upon them and used to inflict harm. Normally, healing responded to a body’s need, flowing into a damaged body like water into an empty bucket. The body itself drew it in, and the flow stopped when the healing was complete. But healing power could also be forced out like a stream. No-one ever did that of course. It was against the healer’s code to force their powers on anyone if they did not wish it, but it was possible.
They might never have discovered the use of healing as a weapon if not for a freak occurrence. A captured necromancer had lain dying, and in order to be able to question him, they had offered healing. He had refused, lying in a pool of his own blood and proclaiming his hatred of all they stood for. One of the healers had lost patience with him and, in a moment of the utmost frustration, had broken her oath and thrust healing power upon him. A great beam of light had lanced from her and washed over his body, but instead of healing him, it had destroyed him. His flesh had withered before she’d understood what was happening, and by the time she let go of her power, the necromancer was a desiccated sack of skin and bone on the floor of the cell.
Reportedly, the healer had been damaged in some way by what she’d done, but it was still an important discovery – something that couldn’t be ignored. Less than a week later, the healers found themselves in the vanguard, thrust out at the enemy. Each of them knew what was expected of them, and as the necromancers charged on their malformed mounts, dark power swelling at their fingertips, they drew on their own gift in readiness.
The green wanted to swoop down on the boiling mass of the enemy, burning them with long blasts of its fire, but it restrained itself. The enemy had dragons too, and its place was in the skies. It watched as the lines drew near, mortal enemies flinging themselves at each other, but this time was different. White light swelled around the front line as healing power intensified, and then a hundred bolts of the purest white light shot into the necromancers. They writhed and cried out, reduced to dried-up husks by the attack, but their cries were as nothing compared to the screams of the healers, a sound so fundamentally wrong it curdled the green’s blood.
…
Emmy woke up in a sweat. It took her a long, confused moment to work out where she was, and shake off the remnants of her dream. It had been so vivid! She shuddered as she recalled those hideous screams. Using healing power in that way was wrong – the very opposite of what healing was all about, of what she stood for and cared about. She shuddered again and wiped the moisture from her brow, feeling thankful that there were no armies of necromancers to fight.
Forty
“Did anyone have any strange dreams last night?” Gaspi asked over the handful of dried fruit and nuts that served as breakfast.
“I slept as well as you can expect on hard rock,” Taurnil grumbled. “But I didn’t dream.”
“Me neither,” Baard said. Several others echoed the same.
“I had a dream,” Emmy said quietly. “I was a dragon, looking down on a battle against an army of necromancers. The healers used their powers to destroy them, but it really hurt them to do it. It was horrible,” she finished with a shudder.
“I dreamed about a dragon too!” Gaspi said. “Except I was riding it. It was more like a memory than a dream though. I even had a name…Orello maybe, and the dragon had a name too – something fancy with two parts to it.”
Heath looked from him to Emmy and back again. “It can’t be a coincidence that you dreamed of dragons.”
“No I don’t think so either. I woke up and there were floating wisps of dragon thought in the camp. I was going to wake everyone else but the fire spirit pretty much told me not to. It seemed to be in control of what was happening.”
Everyone looked to Lydia for an answer, but she shrugged and held up her palms defensively. “Don’t ask me. We don’t exactly talk.”
“Can’t you try?” Gaspi asked. “It might be important.”
“No!” Lydia said, looking flustered.
“Leave it Gasp,” Taurnil interjected flatly.
There was a silent standoff for a moment, and then Emmy ended it. “It doesn’t matter right now. Let’s just concentrate on how we’re going to reach the temple.”
“Fair enough,” Gaspi said, but he didn’t like it. He didn’t want to force Lydia to do something she wasn’t comfortable with, but he also didn’t want to miss an opportunity to discover something that might be important. He just had to hope the knowledge they wer
e forgoing didn’t turn out to be crucial before they finished the quest. He glanced at the fire spirit, wondering what it was up to. If the others hadn’t dreamed, then it seemed that the dragon thought had only penetrated his and Emmy’s minds. The elemental looked back at him with knowing eyes. It blinked once and looked away, lowering its head onto its forefeet. Gaspi grimaced at the inscrutability of elementals. This felt important, but for now, he had no choice but to add it to the growing pile of unresolved mysteries.
“So where do we go from here?” Taurnil asked.
“Hold on, I’ll use the Eye,” Gaspi said. He took out the artefact and closed his eyes, transferring his gaze to the enchanted orb. Drawing the globe light with him, he rose rapidly up the chamber. For several hundred yards there was nothing but a blank stretch of wall on all four sides, and Gaspi started to worry he’d reach the end of the magic’s tether before finding anything useful, but just as his vision started to disintegrate, he made out a large silhouette above him, protruding into the chamber. He couldn’t go any higher without the enchantment collapsing, but he sent the globe light up, and was relieved to see the underside of what looked like another rocky shelf. It was as much as he was going to be able to see using the Wizard’s Eye, so he dispelled the enchantment and opened his eyes.
“There’s something up there – a shelf like this one, but there’s no way to get up there from here.”
“So what do we do?” Taurnil said.
Gaspi grimaced. “I don’t see what choice we have. We could smash through this passageway here but that would involve using magic and, if we’re going to use magic anyway, we may as well go straight up to the shelf.”
“Yes but how?” Taurnil asked.
“A field of variable density,” Gaspi responded. Taurnil looked baffled, as did several of the others. “A big invisible platform,” he explained. “We all jump on and I take us up.”