The Legacy of Skur: Volume One

by L. F. Falconer

Could it possibly be more painful than the sizzling itch already infecting my chest? Seret had only grazed me, the wounds were not deep. They should have begun to heal already.

  “There’s no other way?” I asked, hopefully.

  Jink shook his head.

  Resigning myself to the inevitable, with a clenched jaw, I chose three sturdy sticks from the woodpile, then discarded my cloak, breastplate, and torn shirt. I laid on my back beside the fire.

  “Perhaps you should remove the crystal for now,” Jink said. “I wouldn’t want to scorch it.”

  “I’ll just move it aside.” I pulled the chain high around my neck so that the heated talisman rested against my back.

  Jink frowned. “Are you ready?”

  I shoved a stick between my upper and lower teeth, clutched the other two in my hands, took a deep breath, and nodded.

  Jink scooped a handful of hot coals from the fire. How did he do—the thought cut short as he dropped the coals over me. But they never made it to my skin, veering away instead as if I wore a shield.

  He scooped another handful of coals and tried again, and again the coals deflected off.

  I spit the stick from my mouth. “What is happening?”

  Consternation skewed his features. “It’s that cursed …” He shook his head. “You’ll have to do this on your own. I cannot help you.”

  I sat up. “I don’t know if I can.”

  Jink pointed at my chest. “Those wounds are poisoned. You must, or you will die.”

  I stared at the glowing coals in the fire pit and I knew he was right. I had to sear out the poison or it would kill me. If only I had Ragg’s gold! It would save me. It would banish the poison and rejuvenate my skin.

  “Where’s the gold? I can do this without fire if I get the gold.”

  “I only know the gold is here, but know not where. That poison is killing you. Please, use the fire.”

  Again, I stared at the coals, trembling at the thought. I looked down at the sores on my chest. They still bled and oozed pus, the tender, itchy redness surrounding them spreading beneath the sheet of skin like tendrils or a spider’s web. It would only get worse if I didn’t stem these wounds now. A man’s will to survive can be stronger than his worst fear. I knew what I had to do, despite my terror.

  Gritting my teeth, I bent over the coals. It was worse than I had ever anticipated. The heat grew unbearable, but I forced myself further down, enduring the agony until the black pain became too much. The scent of burning flesh invaded my nostrils and I howled, and rolled away—away from Jink—away from the fire—away from the pain. But the pain stayed with me and I rolled again and again, tumbling out of the cave and into the snow outside. And the cold snow offered some relief so I laid belly down in it, gasping, and through the dreadful agony that engulfed me, I did not know if it was Snorts’ brays or Jink’s laughter that echoed in my ears.

  Presently, I heard a voice. “If you stay there, you’ll freeze.”

  He was right. I was already shivering. As I pulled myself up, my chest left the comfort of the snow and the pain surged through once more. I fell back down. The pain dissipated somewhat, but eventually the lure of the fire’s warmth overpowered my pain and I dragged myself back inside.

  What appeared to be an ancient flask of brandy sat warming beside the fire.

  “Drink it,” Jink said. “I must go now, but I’ll be back tomorrow.” He walked out the mouth and disappeared.

  I took a shaky sip of the flask’s contents, the bittersweet warmth giving me numbing tingles. I drank until my eyes closed and fell into a drunken sleep.

  When I awoke, Jink had brought food, but was not there. I had little appetite, but forced several mushrooms, an egg, and a few blackberries down my throat. Then I dared look at my chest.

  Though the worst of the pain had subsided, it still throbbed. The skin was red and black and rippled with blisters, some the size of my fist. Had I endured enough of the coals to draw out the poison? Would I heal now?

  I wanted to search for the gold and be done with it, but it was all I could do to crawl to the mouth of the cave and sit in the misty light to breathe a bit of untainted air.

  Jink did not return all that day or the next, and I ate sparingly from the meager contents of the basket he had left. I kept the fire alive and attempted to explore some of the darker recesses of the cave. From what I could see in the darkness, several alcoves seemed to hold passage to some deeper interior grottos which emitted cool breezes and musty, earthy odors—more refreshing than Ragg’s lair itself, yet ominous in their feel. They were so very dark that even the dinginess of the cave seemed bright. There was no sign of treasure anywhere and I had the sinking feeling that I would have to descend into one of these dark corridors, into the very dark bowels of Skur, in order to find it.

  The pain in my chest was a dull, achy twinge. Blisters began to break, leaving my skin wet and sticky. I could no longer see where Seret had scratched me beneath the sea of putrescent scabs and welts. Scrounging through the mediocre herbs contained within my magic pouch, I made a weak healing incense that did not one whit of good. It only seemed to inflame the open wounds.

  By the third night, I had eaten the last of my food and lay beside the crackling fire, attempting sleep. Would I ever see Jink again? He had brought me here. Perhaps that was all he could do. He had tried to heal my wounds, given me food, shelter, and heat. For that, I was grateful. As for finding the gold, I would probably have to do that on my own, but I would’ve liked to have thanked him.

  I closed my eyes and dozed, lulled by the cackles of the fire and the constant snorts of the ass. My whirling thoughts kept dashing between my home, Larque’s hut, and Jink’s death, straining any hopes for true sleep. Through those thoughts, I hazily became aware that the cackles and snorts were not just beside me, but all around me. Mixed with the cackles were soft grunts and scuffles.

  My eyes shot open.

  I was surrounded by trolls! A dozen, fat-bellied, hook-nosed, pointed-eared trolls, only half the size of a man. They cackled and brayed and honked and snorted, their round, dark eyes glowing in the firelight as they stared at me in vile amusement.

  Towering behind the trolls was Larque, her face hard and lurid.

  Instinctively, I tried to rise, only to be beset by the trolls. Their wiry arms were deceptively strong as they pinned me to the ground, keeping me captive under their grip.

  “I’m not going to waste any more time on you, Fane,” Larque spoke. She pointed to a pasty faced troll, whose eyes alighted with pride when she spoke. “Karjn, take the crystal.”

  Karjn stooped over me, his drool-moistened jowls spread wide. Knobby fingers grabbed the talisman and he attempted to snap it from my neck. The crystal glowed like blue fire. The glow sped up Karjn’s arm to engulf him. He released a low guttural scream, dropped the crystal, and keeled to the floor, dead.

  His fellow trolls gazed at his body with interest and their brays and grunts grew louder.

  Larque’s face hardened, her eyes a luminous white. She pointed to another troll. “Kill him, Friej.” She folded her arms across her chest, tapping her foot impatiently.

  A rose-cheeked troll stepped up, a short dirk in his hand, crude, yet deadly. He advanced with a sardonic smile. I did not like the looks of this. “What are you doing?” I cried.

  Larque merely laughed.

  The knife-wielding troll was right above me now, grinning beneath his beak-like nose.

  “Stop,” I shouted.

  He brought the dirk down hard and I screamed, the sound bouncing from wall to wall within this chamber of horrors. The crystal glowed wildly and the troll fell next to the first one, dead. The knife was a blob of molten iron upon my chest—the pain I’d felt came not from a cutting thrust but from the impact upon my tender skin. The squashed dirk rolled off my chest, next to the bodies of the dead.

  “Curse that wretched stone!” Larque stamped madly about the cave. “I cannot take it nor have him killed. It must be
given of his own will.”

  I glanced over at the two dead trolls. The crystal had done that!

  Larque began to pace, stroking her chin in thought. With a disgusted wave of her hand, she muttered, “Go ahead, Kinjsk. He’s all yours.”

  The trolls snorted excitedly and despite my protests and squirms, no matter how hard I fought, I could not free myself from their hold. They pinched my skin and pulled my hair, tore at my clothes and rolled me over, bung upwards. My chest scraped against the cavern floor and I wailed in agony. Cold air smacked my naked backside before an unwelcome pain ripped into me, the trolls succeeding where Larque, as Jink, had always failed.

  “I’m not a molly!” I cried, and my cries were joined by the ecstatic grunts and brays of the trolls around me as the assault grew more frenzied.

  Larque squatted before me, a mere shimmering blur through my tears, but her voice was clear.

  “I half expected him to fall dead,” she chuckled. “But apparently this is not life threatening, so your crystal will not protect you from it.”

  “Make them stop, Larque. Please, I beg of you.”

  “Give me the crystal.”

  The talisman definitely had power. Larque wanted it, but she could not take it from me. I had vowed never to give it up. I’d vowed first to Jink, and now to myself.

  “It’s your choice,” Larque said, rising to her feet. “Give up the crystal and I’ll make the trolls stop. Keep it, and they will continue. One by one. And when they are done, they’ll start over again, for they are lascivious little creatures whose appetites know no bounds. But you have the power to put a stop to this when you’ve had enough.”

  I refused to surrender and the trolls continued their assault and eventually, blessedly, I swooned.

  When I came again to consciousness, I was all alone except for the bodies of the two dead trolls. Even Snorts was gone and I hoped the poor beast had run away and not been taken by those heinous trolls.

  My fire had died and I was freezing. I could not walk. My skin was crusted with dirt and troll shot. Every joint and muscle ached. My chest was aflame and bleeding scabs stained the front of my shirt. After dragging myself back to the fire pit, I finally managed to bring the blaze back to life.

  I checked to make sure I still had the talisman. It was there, as always, glowing softly, and I clutched onto it and curled up beside the fire like a small child, grateful I was alone, thus able to shed my tears without shame.

  I could not walk without substantial pain. I didn’t know how long I’d been out of my senses after the troll attack. Jink had still not returned and my belly ached for food. I glanced over at the two dead trolls, then quickly turned away, shaking my head as if to banish the thought from my mind. They would begin to rot soon and foul the air of the cave even more than it presently was. I had to get rid of them.

  After making a painful crawl to the bodies, I withdrew the crumpled dirk from the troll’s armpit where it had landed when it rolled off me. Despite its appearance now, it had been a lethal weapon. It should have torn right through me. Instead, it had crumpled.

  I clutched the talisman, feeling its power. Despite Larque’s wicked attempt to get it from me, it was still mine and I was still alive. I would recover from the trolls’ atrocities and I would find the gold and return to Avar so that Fith and I could unlock the secret to making that which would assure that no man would ever have to die again. Somehow, I would manage to get enough of the gold back home, despite the loss of Snorts. I would not let Jink’s death be for nothing.

  I pushed the dead trolls outside into the snow. From the mouth of the cave, through the mist, I caught a glimpse of Avar far below. Life there seemed unreal anymore—as if it had been only a dream had long ago. I could only hope to set foot in it again someday and awaken from my current nightmare.

  A sennight passed before my hunger drove me back outside to seek the trolls. I pulled the pasty-faced one from the snow, skewed him with a stick, and proceeded to roast him over my fire.

  When the meat was tender, I wrested a skinny arm from the shoulder. It smelled like chicken. I pulled a shred of meat from the arm and stuck it in my mouth. It was greasy and thick, but palatable. I took another bite.

  By the time I had my fill, I’d discovered the buttocks of the troll was the tastiest. Men knew so little about these beings. What the legends told was scant, for they were elusive creatures, rarely coming into the realms of men. When they did it was usually to make off with a child stolen from its bed in the night to do whatever wicked things trolls did with them. At least that is what the tales told.

  Eating the troll had given me back some strength and I took the uneaten portion back out to the snow. When I returned to my fire, a shadow moved across the ground beside me and I spun about.

  A man’s silhouette was outlined at the mouth of the cave.

  “Jink!” I cried in delight. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

  He scowled and strode into the cave. “So, you have eaten a troll,” he said, coming beside the fire.

  I grimaced. “I … I was gutfoundered. There was nothing else.”

  “Even I could never bring myself to eat a troll. They do not like fresh meat, you know. They like their meat decayed. Decayed and maggoty.”

  A bile rose in my throat and I forced it back down.

  Jink grinned. “But I guess you do what you have to do. Personally, I’d rather eat a bogy. At least they prefer their meat fresh. Except the wolfocks. They prefer to eat trolls.”

  I couldn’t contain it anymore and the foulness in my stomach found its way back up, and fleetingly, I wondered how he knew these things.

  “How are your wounds?” he asked when I’d finished vomiting.

  I lifted my shirt to reveal the swollen, crusty red sores that still oozed blood and pus.

  Jink shook his head, saying nothing. He went to the fire and fashioned a crude torch, then motioned for me to follow as he headed deep into the cavern toward a dank, dark recess. The torch shallowly illuminated it.

  A slimy rock staircase wound steeply down into the narrow depths.

  “That is where you need to go.”

  I shuddered. “The gold is down there?”

  “That is where you need to go. I can’t go with you. My time is short and I’ll be leaving soon.”

  I stared at him long. “You’re leaving for good, aren’t you?”

  He nodded and walked back to the outer cave.

  “Where will you go?” I asked, following him.

  He gazed over at me with sorrow. “I need your help, Fane. I’ve helped you. Now you must help me.”

  “How can I help?” I would do anything I could for him. I owed him that much, at the very least.

  He pointed at my talisman. “I need that back.”

  I thought my legs would collapse, so knelt beside the fire, hoping to hide my sudden weakness.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you.” Jink knelt across the fire from me.

  I tried to smile. “It’s not that you upset me. It’s … it’s just …” Without the talisman, I’d be left vulnerable. Totally defenseless.

  “You think you’ll be defenseless without it, don’t you?”

  There he was, inside my head again. “How do you do that?”

  His face feigned innocence, but his eyes betrayed him. “Do what?”

  “I promised you that I would never give it up again, Jink. You made me promise, and I promised. Now you ask me to give it up? Why?”

  He stood and paced about the fire. “I need it to give to the Keeper of Empyrean before he will admit me passage. If I fail to present it, he will refuse me and I’ll have to spend eternity in Shadowland.”

  My heart wrenched. How could I deny him passage into Empyrean?

  “Waesucks, Jink!” My face dropped into my hands. I had led him to his destruction and now held the power of his eternal fate around my neck. Yet that very power could save my own life. Pay attention to the sparks, Fane.

 
Reining in my sorrow, I looked up at him. “You know the power the crystal holds. That’s why you made me vow never to part with it again. What would the almighty Keeper of Empyrean need of this stone?”

  “I don’t know what he needs it for,” Jink snapped. “I only know what I must do to keep myself from Shadowland. What good has it done you? Has Ragg come to threaten you yet? No! Only Larque and a band of trolls.”

  “How did you know that?” I rose to my feet, feeling queasy. Sparks. “How did you know about Larque and the trolls?”

  Jink ignored my question. “Are you going to give me the crystal?”

  “How did you know about Larque and the trolls?”

  “Are you going to hand over the crystal?”

  Who was this before me? Death had changed him too much. His face was hard and angry, his blue eyes nearly a hazy white. He reminded me of Larque. He looked like Jink but he was not Jink. Whatever he had once been was gone.

  “No.” I clutched the hot stone into my palm. “I can’t.”

  His eyes blazed solid white. “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t know who you are!”

  He calmed then, his eyes regaining their deep blue hue. His face softened. His armor disappeared, and then his shirt. His arm transformed into a short, bloody stump and chest wounds opened up, a bloody ooze dribbling onto his trousers. “Do you know me now?” he asked. “Look at me, Fane. Tell me who I am.”

  I didn’t want to look. I didn’t want to see him in his death form and I trembled at the sight. It took all my courage to speak.

  “Fith told me this amulet would protect me from Ragg and you confirmed that at your death. You told me that Ragg could not touch me. As long as I wear the talisman, Ragg cannot touch me.” I held out my hand. “A creature who can disguise himself as the sky could surely disguise himself as Jink. If you are truly Jink, then touch me. Touch my hand and I will gladly give you the talisman.”

  I took a step forward, my hand outstretched.

  Jink drew back.

  “Touch me,” I shouted. “Prove to me who you are not, and touch me!” I wanted to be wrong. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted it to be Jink before me and not who I suspected it to be.