The Silver Arrow

by Larry Itejere

  Chapter 24

  The Spark of Hope

  Two men dressed in ashen gray stood watching as Iseac tried to stop himself from falling over after being shoved into a room he thought was empty. He’d been held against a wall next to an open door a few minutes before while the lock around his neck was removed. The guard did not follow as they shoved him in through the door.

  As Iseac tried to stop himself from falling, an invisible band clasped his hands and feet, holding him in place. He looked up from the slick, salty-colored looking floor to see the two men with their faces hiding in the cowl of their cloaks. The room would have been bright were it not for the patches of gray on the walls. Apparently they had being watching him the whole time.

  Iseac watched as one of the figures approached with his hand still locked in place, unable to move. He recognized the red ring on the figure’s finger and knew right away who it was. He was the man who was going to end Elena’s life in front of him. As the man moved his hands up, Iseac’s own arm went up in unison until his shoes barely touched the floor.

  Iseac stared into the cowl of the former Patron’s hood as he walked toward him, not intimidated as he held on tightly to the anger burning inside him.

  The man moved close to Iseac and then slowly walked around, stopping behind him. With his lips next to Iseac’s ear, he said in a cold whisper, “I hope you are as strong as your predecessors.”

  As those words left his lips, a sudden chill ran down Iseac’s spine and his eyes suddenly bulged from the Patron’s touch. A sharp pain burrowed into his skull and he began to convulse. With each violent shake, a web of red veins began to form along the edges of his eyes just before they rolled in the back of his head. His head suddenly dropped down, the pain knocking him unconscious.

  Satisfied with his result, the former Patron released his grip around Iseac’s neck. He took in a deep breath, shifting his shoulder in and out as he exhaled, appearing to have drawn strength from Iseac. A drop of blood slid down Iseac’s nose as the Patron released his hold, letting Iseac’s limp body drop to the ground.

  “As long as he’s alive, we should be able to find them,” the former Patron said to his companion, who walked over to check on Iseac. “Get the men together,” the former Patron instructed.

  His companion nodded his head in response and began making his way to the door when his name was called.

  “Rogan.” The man stopped. “I will be joining you and the men this time, and send one of the guards to get him,” the former Patron said.

  “It shall be done,” Rogan replied.

  **************

  When Iseac regained consciousness, he was lying on his back. He squeezed his eyes and blinked several times to clear his vision. His head throbbed and he felt as if he’d been trodden underfoot by a herd of cattle. Disoriented and not thinking straight, Iseac tried to sit up. Every part of his body fought against it, and he lost consciousness and dropped to the floor.

  When he opened his eyes the next day, he was still weak, but not as before, and his mind was somewhat clear. As he sat up, his body reminded him that all was not well. The pain in his head was now a dull ache. He gingerly placed his hand at the back of his neck to assess the damage he’d received at the hands of the former Patron. He rubbed his hand gently against his skin; it felt stiff and bruised, but the skin wasn’t broken. He looked at his fingers−there was no blood.

  Knowing this did not make any difference in the way he felt. He remembered the Patron’s touch at the back of his neck and the intense pain, as if someone was drilling a hole in his skull. While he was glad to be alive, something was amiss. He was being held in his original cell. The place was quiet and empty of his neighboring cellmates, which meant they were either working or being fed. While Iseac was thinking about what they may have done to him, he remembered: Elena!

  That thought wiped out every other concern. He needed to find her; he had to make sure she was okay.

  Getting down on one knee, he placed his hand on the floor. He recited a few words and gained sight beyond his cell. Just as it began, it was drawn somewhere else and winked out. He tried again, and the same thing happened. He began to panic. For the first time, Iseac truly felt afraid. Taking a deep breath, he slowly began to clear his mind, concentrating on his core.

  Everything around him faded away like a fog dispelled by the sun. The damp cave wall, the choking smell of smoke and dirt, and everything around him seemed distant.

  He was at the heart of his core, feeling every connection in his mind. At first everything appeared normal, but as he dug deeper, he began to see what had been done to him. New webs were rooted into the edges of his mind—not his own, but a taint that was now part of him. He did not understand how it was possible, but now he knew the reason why he felt different and unable to concentrate.

  Still puzzled by his discovery, Iseac felt a prickling in his mind and a different fear came over him. A surge of silver light rushed toward his core, enveloping his thoughts before he could retreat. The energy was like a lightning bolt, and inside it stood a young man. Iseac squinted, shielding his vision to peer at the figure in his core.

  He recognized the face as it turned to look at him. It was Samuel. The figure did not see him, but he could sense Samuel felt his presence, like the last time they met in Chartum-Valley.

  Iseac opened his eyes, shocked and amazed that such powers were able to penetrate his core, allowing him a glimpse of an event that was happening. “Samuel!” he muttered. It couldn’t be…but it was, and hope once again lit up inside him.

  Chapter 25

  Keeper of the Gate

  At Mount Va’lenna, it was dark outside and the cool evening breeze stilled the air as a young man stepped out of Rod Stone temple.

  “Samuel!” a familiar voice called. He turned to see Mosley walking toward him, and he smiled as he approached.

  “It is good to see you well and alive,” Mosley said.

  “It is good to see you, too,” Samuel replied, bowing his head.

  “Where is Iseac?” Samuel asked.

  “He was taken captive before we could reach him.” Mosley’s tone reflected his disappointment. “After you left…” he began, and went on to narrate all that had transpired after Samuel rode off into the woods. He also told him about the Agoras that were captured as they tried to flee the scene. The Agoras were being held for questioning.

  “What about you?” Mosley asked. “We heard that you made it safely to Gabram.”

  “Yes.” Samuel told him about his encounter with the Golans, how he had narrowly escaped with his life, and how lucky he was to have found a ship heading directly from Lufgard to Bremah, where Gabram was waiting for him.

  “The gods must be with you,” Mosley said, since ships rarely go directly from Lufgard to Bremah. “I’m glad the Patron got the message before you arrived…come with me. There is someone I would like you to meet.” He placed a hand on Samuel’s shoulder and led him to the Ackalans’ quarters, which was a building to the left of the temple on the opposite side of the stable.

  Inside the Ackalans’ quarters was a straight hallway that went through three rooms. The first room had rows of benches and tables; it was the dining area. The Ackalans who were eating at the tables gave them a quick glance before turning their attention back to their food. As they made their way past the second room, Samuel could see rows of mats and pillows. Some of the beds were being used by Ackalans who had traveled there as escorts to the Patrons who came for his unlocking. No one appeared to be paying them any attention, but if you looked closer, you would see that each man’s weapon was as good as drawn, with how close it rested by their beds.

  The last room had two doors on opposite ends of the wall; in the middle of this room was an oval-shaped altar that was wide enough to accommodate four people.

  Two men were looking over something on top of it. As soon as Samuel and Mosely approached the third entrance, the men turned to face them.

  “Ashra,�
�� Mosley said. “I would like you to meet Samuel from Chartum-Valley.”

  The man standing in front of him was tall with broad shoulders. His eyes were dark brown with the silver rings that were common with all Ackalans. Along his chiseled face hung two single braids and his muscular form was well defined underneath his clothes.

  “It is nice to meet you, Samuel of Chartum-Valley. Kru haya no-nah. “I’m Tremay. This is Hildra, my second in command.”

  Hildra, an older man with more gray than black in his hair, nodded in the same manner as Tremay.

  “We first received word over a year ago of a occurrence similar to what happened to your people in Chartum-Valley,” Tremay said. “The people in a small village suddenly disappeared without a trace.

  “Rumor back then was that the villagers were cursed, since no one had a rational explanation. Since then, there has been a steady rise of these unexplained disappearances and without any witnesses—at least, until you.

  “The disappearances, from what we’ve gathered so far, have been random, from small villages to large ones with population of over two thousand. We do see a pattern. They are moving closer to bigger towns like yours.”

  “While their actions may appear random,” Samuel said, “I believe they are searching for the same people as the Anamerian, which was why they were in Chartum-Valley and why they captured Iseac. The Anamerian is important in all of this, and that is why I leave tonight to begin my search for him.”

  If they were impressed by Samuel’s confidence, none of them showed it. Mosley looked at him, not sure if he was the same scared, unsure young man he met just over a year ago. Now he spoke with the confidence of a warrior.

  “We were asked to go with you when you are ready, and we have been waiting,” Tremay said. “The Patrons asked that we share this information with you.” Tremay turned to the table, where there was an open map of the four Kingdoms. He pointed to an area south of Po’trema on the map.

  “From the information Adal was able to gather from the Agoras, we believe the Anamerian might be held here,” he said, his finger close to Amito-Mountain. The land of the sun, Samuel thought.

  Samuel nodded his head several times as Tremay spoke about the surrounding area. The wasteland was a perfect site, with weather so harsh and unforgiving no one who escaped could survive. However, what caught Samuel’s attention, and reaffirmed the Patron’s suggestion, was what Tremay said about the mountain pass: rumors of monstrous creatures possessing, killing, or snatching people at night.

  If this was really happening, Samuel thought, then the scale of the world has truly been tipped and this kind of event is a result of an imbalance in all things.

  “Ashra,” Samuel asked, “how long will it take your men to be ready?”

  “Ten minutes,” Tremay said.

  “Good…we leave tonight, and I need to prepare. Peace and prosperity, Ashra.” Samuel said in the old tongue as he bowed his head.

  Impressed by his use of the old tongue, which very few knew, Tremay responded in the same manner before they left to make preparations.

  Within ten minutes, as Tremay said, they were ready and waiting. When Samuel stepped out of the temple doors again, he was dressed in a dark-blue shirt with silver embroidery along the cuff and chest. His trousers and boots were black and his cloak was dark brown. He held a silver longbow and arrows that seemed to gleam in the dark.

  The Patrons were standing by the door as he walked over to Tremay with his eyes glowing, a mirror of the moonlight.

  “Ashra, have your men dismount and follow me,” Samuel instructed. He waited for his instruction to be passed along before he began making his way back to the temple doors, which were pulled open as he approached.

  If the Ackalans were curious, none of them showed it. Adal and Thorlak stood waiting as they approached the door to the room holding one of the scrolls of creation. When they were all close enough to hear him, Samuel spoke up.

  “Everyone stay around the wall when we go inside and form a circle around me. Place your hand on the shoulder of the person to your right. It will make what we are about to do easier on everyone.” With that, Samuel turned to look at the Patron, nodding his signal for them to open the door. It was like a door to another world in a room that was as bright as the evening sky with all the stars.

  Samuel walked toward the middle as everyone else filed in. His form began to change as the last person walked in and the door closed behind them. In the darkened room, they could all see the soft silvery aura that was forming around him.

  As Samuel took an arrow from its quiver, it changed into pure silver. He aimed and released the arrow into the glowing ball at the heart of the pool. In a flash, it split into four before driving into the ball at perfect angles. The arrows started spinning. With each rotation, the pool got brighter and brighter. Everyone began to stare at the water.

  It became so bright that they all had to shield their eyes, but Samuel watched as the scroll rose from inside the pool into the air. It wasn’t long before it was hovering above them.

  The light that filled the room began to gather into a single pillar of light that slowly took form, changing into an illuminated figure in the center of the pool. Her garment, like her, was almost translucent white, and she beamed like the sun. She took in everyone in the room at a glance, but her eyes came to rest on Samuel.

  “I am the keeper of the gate,” she announced in a soft whisper, her words sinking deep into every part of their being. “It has been over a thousand years. Is your path set?”

  “Yes, our path is clear and we are ready to enter,” Samuel replied, following an ancient protocol.

  “Then let not body and mind bind the way,” she said, moving toward Samuel. She touched him at the center of his chest with one of her fingers, and then she was gone.

  The room became dimmer again, but the pool was still lit, and the aura around Samuel became brighter than before. Samuel’s eyes became open from the keeper’s touch. He could see patches of green close to a mountainside, as if looking through a window, and he recognized the place as Amito-Mountain.

  He closed his eyes and felt everything around the room shift. When he opened his eyes again, they were all standing outside.

  Samuel looked out onto the rugged plain as a gentle breeze blew past his face. He knew exactly where they were; they had made it.

  Chapter 26

  Dead End

  “We are here,” Samuel announced to the Ackalans, who stood in a circle still holding onto their companion’s shoulder. While they may not have understood it before, they now saw the wisdom in Samuel’s request that they hold onto one another’s shoulder as they flashed out of and back into reality. One of the men in the circle threw up from nausea. As everyone in their own subtle way were reassuring themselves of the reality of their new position, Tremay, who seemed unperturbed by their experience, broke away from their circle and walked over to Samuel.

  It was still dark out, but the moon provided enough light for them to see the sparsely forested area around them. The air was warm and dry for the time of day, a reminder that they were in the desert.

  “Something is wrong,” Samuel thought, and it wasn’t that he could sense Iseac close and far at the same time, as if there were two of him.

  “We need to be vigilant; there are living and non-living moving around this place,” Samuel announced before they began moving.

  They walked quietly to the right of Amito−Mountain when they saw a fog appear in the distance. Even at a distance, something about it did not look right. They watched it drift toward them till they were enveloped by it. The fog held the rancid smell of things that were decaying as they moved cautiously along. The mist wasn’t extremely dense, but it impeded their view slightly. Just a few feet in, they heard it: the faint sound of something approaching. While they could see nothing, the sound was getting louder as it drew closer.

  “Everyone, stay here,” Samuel said in a voice that was almost as godly as the ga
tekeeper. In the mist they could see his glowing figure as he darted away with inhuman speed, disappearing into the mist.

  Samuel stopped about a hundred yards away from the Ackalans. He took out an arrow, nocked, and pulled, watching as figures appeared in the fog. As their impression became clearer, Samuel could see that they were Qui-Mas, creatures denied the peace of death. The Qui-Mas were charging in their direction, weapons drawn, pulled by the scent of blood.

  Fifty yards from his position, Samuel released a string of arrows in rapid succession. As each silver arrow took flight, it split into a dozen, with each hitting its intended target. The force from each arrow was like a lightning bolt, striking two or three at a time. The creatures dropped to the ground, pilling the earth as they rolled to a stop with dust rising around them. Those that were struck immediately started decaying until they crumbled into dust.

  One of the creatures slipped past Samuel on his left flank while the others slowly halted, screaming from their positions as they waved their weapons in the air. They could all see the glowing figure in the distance with bow and arrow drawn and unmoved by their screaming. With so many dead around them, they decided after several minutes to retreat. Just as they had appeared with the mist, they faded away.

  Just as the mist was beginning to disperse, Tremay saw a creature twice his size appear with its blade raised, ready to strike him. Tremay’s sword was already drawn when a flash of silver zipped overhead. The creature squalled as it dropped to the ground and immediately started decaying.

  “They are called Qui-Mas, or cursed souls,” Samuel said. “They are people stuck between our world and the next. They possess and reshape the bodies of wild animals, and they will be back.” Those words drew everyone’s attention back to Samuel.

  “Normal steel is useless against them. Anything they touch before withering to this state, they can possess, till the thing or person is killed.

  “We better get going,” Samuel said in his normal tone with the brightness in his eyes slowly diminishing. He began walking back the way he had come, with Tremay following beside him.