The Rawn Chronicles Book Three: The Ancarryn and the Quest (The Rawn Chronicles Series 3)

by P D Ceanneir

  More of the snarling creatures swarmed around her as she threw over the locking latch on the winch. Powyss helped her as he killed four closest to her with his Spit Gun and this gave her an opening through which she could run and jump off the edge of the platform landing clumsily on the swinging spherical cage and nearly dislocating her arm as she clung on tightly.

  She took time to catch a quick glance at the Blacksword’s progress and saw him dispatch two more of the Brethac creatures and then he jumped from one bridge to a lower one. She widened her eyes in surprise as she saw him produce two balls of white flame that sat snugly in his pale white hands. The white balls of flame, edged with glowing red heat, shot from his hands at supersonic speed and hit the hives thin supporting column of rock that it sat on. The colossal impact took a huge chunk out of the columns right hand side and sent a myriad of webbed cracks racing around the rest of the structure. the loud booming noise of the strike rocked the cavern and caused the creatures to screech in anger.

  Then he sent two more into the hive itself. The whole construction must have been made from a thin material, because the top half of the hive exploded like a shattering eggshell sending sharp pieces outwards in all directions. One whizzed by Tia’s head and she ducked back behind the cage for protection, but even that did not stop the speed of the debris as fragments cut through the cage bars.

  On the platform, Powyss dived to one side as a huge chunk of the hive brushed by him with inches to spare; it hit the creature he was fighting with, cutting him in half like wire through cheese.

  Havoc could see, through the glowing walls of the Muse Orrinn, that the Blacksword had picked the right spot to deliver his Pyromantic Superheated Fireballs. He watched as the supporting column crumpled into the lake followed by the collapsing hive, the waters of the lake foamed as rock and rubble churned it into a bubbling white froth. He heard the screaming din of the Brethac creatures when they realised what was happening, half of them climbed back down the walls to attack the Blacksword.

  Havoc felt useless, he wanted to help, but he felt trapped inside this mysterious world. However, this world was an Orrinn. Sub-conscious thought had power here.

  It was worth a try.

  The burning vines finally broke away, putting more strain on the ones remaining to hold up the wicker platform. Some of those groaned and began to fray from the weight that they were supporting.

  There was a scream from below and Powyss looked down to see the swinging cage ball and three people on it. Tia was hanging underneath it and Debbdil trying to climb on top with a Brethac gripping her foot firmly. He rushed to the winch but the platform lurched as two of the vines snapped sending everyone sprawling to one side as the structure buckled and kinked.

  The Blacksword heard the scream and looked up. He wished he had not. Apart from the three on the swinging ball, he noticed hundreds of Brethac converge onto his position from the walls and the bridges above him. Seeing he was going to be surrounded fairly soon, and deciding that the only way out was up, he used the wind element to construct a strong pressure wave to lift him up to the Cage Ball. The hurricane force of wind sent the nearest creatures to him over the edges of the bridge he had leapt from and into the churning waters of the lake. The Blacksword shot up at tremendous speed and was lucky enough to catch the edge of the spherical wooden cage as it swung back his way. He used the momentum to pivot around on the wooden bar he was holding and hit the Brethac in the face with both feet. The thing let go of Debbdil’s foot and executed a perfect backward flip as it fell away. He looked up to the platform and saw Powyss getting to his feet.

  ‘Cut the ropes!’ he shouted, but in the din that the creatures were making his voice was lost.

  Lord Ness and Powyss both jerked their heads around when they suddenly heard the Prince in their heads telling them to cut the ropes. It was more of a subtle suggestion or a hint without a voice, but both of them unmistakably felt Havoc’s presence all around them. They looked at each other in surprise, both realising that they had received the same message. They then nodded towards one another and did as instructed, linking their minds to the elemental energy within the ropes and dismantling the molecules within.

  The Blacksword received a stronger message from the Prince, mainly because of their link to the same body and partly through the power of the Muse Orrinn. His was a fleeting image of the water trough, which held tonnes of water from the waterfalls spilling into it at the lower levels. He saw it burst and fill the lake in his head.

  ‘Havoc...where are...?’ then he knew that the Prince was right. The collapsed hive had formed into rubble that sat above the waterline if the wicker platform fell it would snag on it. They needed more water and the deep troughs that brought fresh water to the creatures were the answer. He reached out his hand as if a claw, aiming it at the south side trough, linked a Pyromantic Surge to the earth element and Blended the water element with it as well to will the water to move.

  Tia felt the massive expulsion of Rawn energy from the Blacksword and felt, rather than saw, its target. The outside rim of the water trough, which curved around the walls of the cavern, obliterated into tiny pieces at the same time. Millions of gallons of water instantly filled the lake by several inches just as Powyss and Lord Ness used the Arts to disintegrate the last of the vines.

  ‘Hang on!’ Tia shouted, mainly to Debbdil, as they plummeted to the lake below.

  As luck would have it, Powyss was a little premature in his task. The wicker platform swung out to the north for the briefest second as his south side ropes snapped moving the whole of the construction away from the hive rubble and then Lord Ness did the rest by blasting the ropes to dust. They plummeted at an alarming speed, the platform landing with a violent slap on the water. Part of it’s edge hit the hive rubble, but by this time, the mass of water from the troughs lifted it up in a twenty-foot wave and sent it into a low-ceilinged river cave that flowed from the lake and away from the large grandeur of the cavern.

  Miraculously, the platform stayed in one piece and stayed afloat. It sunk just a little, though due to the curved lip at the edges it only let in a couple of inches of water. Powyss stood up, disorientated, and was then suddenly thrown off his feet again as the rope on the winch tightened and the wicker platform stopped in the current of the wide underground river.

  The cage ball, with the Blacksword, Tia, and Debbdil clinging on it, had a slightly better landing. They hit two of the stone bridges on the way down, but bounced off them because of the springy suspension of the ball’s curved wooden bars. As a result, when they hit the water it was a soft landing. Unfortunately, it was on the wrong side of the smouldering rubble pile that was once the Brethac Nest. Their troubles doubled when the cage sunk several feet and then wedged between two thick blocks of rock. This had the effect of halting the wicker platform too, via the rope winch and cage as its anchor.

  After the initial onrush of water from the troughs, the level lowered so the trio could stick their heads above the foaming water and get a much needed lungful of air. The Blacksword noticed that the cage’s winch rope had tightened and the distant raft bobbed in the current. In addition, the Brethac had not given up in their pursuit. Some were already swimming out to the platform, which was now a large raft, and he noticed others moving closer to their own position as they climbed down the walls, hissing as they did so. He could see Powyss and a couple of the Wyvern waving and calling to them to swim to the raft, but the situation was hopeless. The creatures were as quick and nimble in the water as they were on land and would soon overrun the raft before the Blacksword, Tia and Debbdil could get to it. He quickly surmised that those on the raft had a better chance of survival, so he scanned the terrain around them for another way out. Then he hefted SinDex. The black-blade cut the thick rope with a silent whisper, followed by a loud tearing noise as it whipped away from them to splash down into the frothing waters.

  He could hear Powyss’ cry of despair as the current gripped the raft and pull
ed it into the darkness of the river cave.

  Chapter 20

  Vul’yoi

  Even though this place offered a pleasurable existence, Havoc did not wish to stay. He pushed away all thought of tranquil feelings to concentrate on those that made him who he was. Nevertheless, he felt joy when he connected with the others to deliver his message even if they understood his thoughts and never heard his voice, as he had intended, but it was a good start.

  The problem now was the Blacksword. His alter ego was expending too much energy for Havoc to make a return to his body. That was assuming he knew how to go about doing that in the first place. He had an instinctual feeling that if he attempted it now with his body, as weak as it was, then his soul would fritter away and be lost.

  Still, exploring the nuances of the Muse Orrinn fascinated him. Now that he knew how to use it at a sub-conscious level, could he use it to see the future as he had done before? The thought had not long entered his mind when a flicker of images presented themselves on the walls of the Orrinn. They flashed so fast and furiously that he had no time to focus on any of them, so he willed them to slow down, which they did, though the effort needed to do so became tiresome.

  He was surprised the see Bleudwed sitting at her desk in Caphun talking into her Lobe Stone. He could not hear her voice, but could clearly see that her lips were forming his name repeatedly. There was concern on her face.

  The image changed to another girl with long brown hair that splayed out on a white pillow. Her brown eyes looked up at him lovingly. The angle of the image showed him that he was lying on top of her; he looked down to see that she was naked. The girl’s hands pulled his head back slowly to reveal her smiling face once again and he flinched as he recognised her as Tia. Was she going to be his lover sometime in the future?

  The image changed to a fleet of six Sky Ships flying Vallkyte flags. High ragged mountains of ice and snow showed up clearly against the blue sky in the background. He did not recognise the mountains and concluded that the enemy were following them, or it could even be another group of adventurers on the same quest. Unlikely as that seemed.

  It was becoming harder to slow down the pictures in front of him; they whizzed past so quickly now that he barely registered images, people and shapes. He saw a room of full-lengthen mirrors. In each mirror stood a beautiful tall blonde woman in very little clothing, she was laughing at him. He saw a palace of ice collapse around him. Saw many blocks of brown rectangular stone of impressive size floating horizontally in the air above a deep-forested valley and a large dragon land on one of them. Then a bipedal creature with burning eyes towering above him, its body made of trees and plants. An image, so disturbing, of his uncle Kasan wielding an axe over the slumped body of his father. Then his concentration broke and the images of the future merged into a mix of colours and then disappeared.

  Tia coughed and spluttered as the cold water tried to force its way down her throat. She flinched when she felt strong arms pull her out of the water and saw Debbdil crouching on some rocks nearby just a drenched as she was. Her slim body hunched as she coughed up the swallowed water. Then everything came back to her, she looked around as the Blacksword steadied her in the debris that was once the Brethac Hive.

  They were not out of the nightmare yet. The Brethac swarmed around them coming from all directions. The wicker platform was nowhere in sight and she smiled; the others had escaped.

  The Blacksword wrapped his left arm around her tightly and she wondered what he was doing. His face betrayed no emotion; he did the same to the Wyvern who cried out in surprise. The grip he pulled them both into was like iron and Tia had the feeling that this mysterious person was nowhere near being human, yet his physical form underneath the black cloak was so thin and bony she wondered how he could even have the energy to stand.

  He shocked them all by jumping with them in his grip. The water underneath them burst outward in a circular tidal wave from the force of the wind element he used. His target was one of the lowest bridges that remained intact after the hives destruction. He landed on the edge, let them go, and then firmly pushed them forward saying, ‘go, run to the cave!’ Tia looked at the other end of the bridge and recognised the cave that Powyss had pointed out to her earlier.

  He said it led to the lake.

  They were not finished yet.

  She grabbed Debbdil’s hand and together they ran along the bridge at a sprint. She could hear the Blacksword’s boots stomping the stonework of the walkway behind her. Brethac were leaping from the walls onto the bridge, so she used a sporadic burst of wind energy to bat them off again and they flipped away violently as the invisible force struck. The stone bridge was crumbling beneath them, now that it no longer had any support at the opposite end; this was to their benefit when Brethac landed on the bridge behind them only to fall into the lake as the bridge collapsed underneath their feet.

  The cave mouth loomed large and dark as they entered it and cool air chilled the sweat on Tia’s brow. There was a smell of dampness and the sound of running water in the distance of the caves straight but narrow corridor. Darkness was not total here as the glowing pommel on the Sword that Rules suddenly lit up so they could view the way ahead. Her legs burned with exhaustion and Debbdil panted heavily beside her, yet still gripped her hand with a strength that the Havant found surprising.

  ‘Keep running!’ shouted the Blacksword, ‘don’t look back!’

  Tia did look behind her; she saw the mass of Brethac enter the cave mouth after them. They climbed the walls and ceiling of the cave tunnel and sprinted on all fours. Her footing slipped and she skidded on the loose black slate that made up the walls of the tunnel. It slowed them down and as they stumbled over the uneven floor. She heard the metallic tang of metal on metal and turned to see that the Blacksword had separated his weapon into two. He held them in both hands as he ran and then rammed them at an angle into the narrow walls of the tunnel where they gouged out a perfect line on both sides at shoulder height. Not only was she astonished at the power of the black blades to cut through stone as if it was melted butter, but she also wondered what he was trying to accomplish. She suddenly realised that the walls of the cave were just brittle layers of volcanic ash or mud that had compressed into slate over millions of years. The shockwave from the two swords cracked the walls and ceiling of the tunnel. The Brethac, scurrying along the walls and ceiling, could not find any purchase on the falling slates of shale and fell to the cave floor and covered in tons of the collapsing rock. Unfortunately, the deliberate act of destruction had caused a complete collapse of the tunnel and huge boulders crashed down in front of them leaving a narrow opening. Tia threw her arms around Debbdil, with her last ounce of strength she lifted her off her feet, and dived through the gap at the centre of the rock slide. They landed hard on a muddy shale slope and tumbled down it as more rocks fell behind them to block the tunnel. They then skidded and rolled down a slope of a black sandy beach to finally land in freezing cold water.

  The weight of the rusty winch was slowing the raft’s progress through the underground river. It was actually pulling one end of the wicker platform underwater. However, Powyss delayed in removing it in the hope that Tia or the Blacksword and Debbdil had somehow grabbed hold of it. After a time he could only see some of the creatures climbing along the thick vine. He sighed, cut the winch’s base from the platform with Bor-Teaven, and kicked it into the water. The raft now moved faster in the current, occasionally bouncing lightly off the sides of the cave high walls. He felt a hand on his shoulder and Lord Ness gave him a small smile of reassurance.

  The wounded native girl had died and her companions covered her body in some wet rags then placed her in the cold water. The four remaining Wyverns Filial consoled them as they sobbed.

  Powyss and Lord Ness took some of the raft’s branches and made torches to light their course. After a time they saw that the river branched off into two routes split by a huge column of rock.

  ‘Which way d
o we go now?’ Powyss asked.

  Lord Ness pondered for a while. ‘We let the current take us and hope it’s going somewhere.’ The current took them to the left.

  Tia and Debbdil untangled themselves from each other, their chests rose up and down sharply from their previous exertions; they looked at each other and laughed, happy to be alive.

  Then Tia frowned, it should be dark, but there was a white light all around them. She turned and actually smiled when she saw the Blacksword standing at the blocked entrance. By the sound of it the Brethac on the other side were trying to get through. His pommel glowed, casting its light over the shingle and ash beach and over the calm waters of the river. There was no sign of the raft.

  She forced her weary legs to lift her body and walk over to him. She was so happy to see he was alive, and strangely, that she wanted to hug him, but though better of it. Many saw the Blacksword as the Personification of Death and that thought stymied her emotions.

  Instead, Debbdil broke the moment. She suddenly hugged her and kissed Tia twice on each cheek saying, “thank you” with each kiss. ‘You have saved my life, Tia, many times today.’

  Tia felt embarrassed. ‘Ah, well, if it wasn’t for the Blacksword, we would all be dead.’

  Debbdil looked at the tall-cloaked figure as he turned to them. ‘Thank you… sir.’ Tia smiled as the girl actually curtsied. She looked at the waif-like female beside her and noted that her clothes were torn and wet, most of her tanned body gashed and bruised in places. She was also shivering with the cold and the little clothing that she had on did not help. Tia knew that she was in just as bad a condition as Debbdil, yet the erotic image of two wet, semi-naked, attractive girls breathing heavily did nothing to the Blacksword as he scrutinised them with his emotionless black eyes. He nodded towards the blocked entrance and punched it lightly with the side of his fist.