“But he may need our help, Zyrn,” the man says.
Dismounting, Zyrn moves to the edge of the gray sand. Bending over, he hesitantly reaches down and touches it. The feel of it is the same as it was when they were here before. Turning to the man he stopped, he nods.
Kicking his horse in the sides, the man races over to the body lying in the sand. By the time Zyrn has remounted the man has stopped and is kneeling by the body. When Zyrn and the others approach, the man glances back to him and says, “It’s Ibala.”
His features mimic that of the other dead man; gray skin that looks like melted wax and pupils that have turned gray. “Do you think anyone is left alive?” one man asks.
Gazing out over the grey desert Zyrn shakes his head and replies, “I doubt it.” Further toward the sight of the battle, he sees the wagons of the other scavengers. They have stopped before reaching the area where the dead soldiers lay.
“They stopped,” he comments.
The others look to see what he’s talking about. “What do you think made them do that?” one of his companions asks.
“I don’t know,” he replies. Putting his hand across his forehead to keep the sun off his eyes, he tries to get a clearer view. Then movement catches his eye. Six figures are running away from the wagons back the way they came. “They are running away,” he says nervously.
“What should we do?” asks the man next to him. Despite his attempt to sound calm, fear has crept into his voice.
“I’m not sure but we better find out what’s going on,” he says. Kicking his horse in the sides he bolts toward the fleeing men. Before he has gone half the distance, three of the men fall and don’t get up. Then another falls and then another.
He reaches the last man just as he hits the ground. “Stay back!” Zyrn orders the others. Moving closer he watches as the man writhes upon the ground. Not a sound does the man make other than that of his limbs moving in the dirt. A spasm rips through him and he flips onto his back.
Most of his skin has turned gray and is beginning to sag in the same manner as the young men they found. One pupil is gray and the other is almost there. The man’s jaw opens and closes as if he’s trying to say something. Then another spasm tears through him before his body becomes still.
“Zyrn,” one man says with barely controlled fear evident in his voice, “let’s get out of here.”
“But we haven’t found my son,” another man argues.
“He’s dead!” the scared man exclaims. “They all are!”
“I’m not leaving here until I find my son!” the man shouts.
They look to Zyrn for a decision.
He glances from one to the others and then says, “I’ll stay here with Zaki. The rest of you return to the village and tell them what is going on.”
The fearful man immediately turns his horse and heads in a straight line home. The others turn to follow him.
“Thanks Zyrn,” Zaki says.
“Come on,” he replies. Glancing to the wagons, he sees the horses are down even though they are still in their traces. Angling away from the wagons, they begin to creep further toward the battlefield.
Before they go very far Zaki sees another body further into the gray area. Recognizing the cloak upon the body he cries out, “My son!” Kicking his horse in the sides he bolts toward where his son lays.
Zyrn makes to follow him when he notices the ground ahead of them seems to shimmer and shift. A bad feeling comes over him and cries out for Zaki to stop but he doesn’t heed the warning.
Pulling up to a quick halt, he watches as Zaki’s horse passes into the area that shimmers and shifts. Where the horse’s hooves touch the ground, the grayness seems to ripple but Zaki doesn’t notice.
“Come back!” Zyrn yells one final time.
Then suddenly, Zaki’s horse stumbles and he’s thrown to the ground. Zyrn watches in horror as the grayness seems to ripple away from the spot where Zaki lands like ripples across a pond. The horse screams as it hits the ground.
Getting to his feet, Zaki takes a step toward his son before he notices his hands. The parts that had touched the ground now have gray flecks across them. He tries rubbing the gray off on his shirt and some of his skin comes off, leaving a gray trail across his front.
“Zaki!” Zyrn screams.
Zaki turns to look back and Zyrn can see where the gray is already beginning to spread across his skin. Turning back to his son again, he races across the ground until he reaches his side. By this time his horse has stopped its thrashing upon the ground and has grown still.
Kneeling beside the young man, Zaki tries to pick him up but lacks the strength. With a moan, he tips to the side and begins to writhe upon the ground before growing still.
“Zaki!” cries Zyrn. Lifelong friends, he and Zaki go way back. He looks in anguish at his friend who lies unmoving next to his son. “Damn!” he curses.
Just then, his horse rears backward and stumbles. Zyrn leaps from his horse as it falls and hits the ground hard. Glancing back to his horse, he sees its forelegs turning gray. Slowly the gray begins working its way to the rest of its body. Thrashing about, the horse neighs in fear until finally growing still and quiet.
Zyrn scrambles backward until he has put several yards between himself and his now dead horse. He tries to come to grips with what happened to his horse. He knew he stopped outside of the gray area and his horse hadn’t moved the entire time he watched Zaki’s ordeal.
Then he notices how the edge of the gray area seems to slowly be expanding. Oh my god! It’s growing! Scooting backward another couple of feet, he pauses and stares at the edge to make sure his eyes weren’t paying tricks on him. After a few moments, sure enough he sees the edge expand again.
It’s not a constant growth, seems to grow in periodic spurts. Getting to his feet, he casts one last look back at his friend then turns around and runs for all he’s worth. If this continues to grow, then his whole village is in danger. Leaving the grayness behind, he races across the desert.
Chapter Four
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Four hours past Pleasant Meadows they stop for the night. A quick meal then right to sleep for they plan to make an early start in the morning.
Jiron has pulled the midnight watch tonight. During his watch he keeps a fire going for the comfort of the others, but primarily stays in the darkness surrounding the camp. His eyes remain better accustomed to the dark that way.
Walking the perimeter in a continuous loop, he keeps watch externally with only the occasional glance to those within the fire. He remembers well the shadows which paid a call that one night a couple weeks ago. They had come to attack James and only the quick thinking of Miko and Brother Willim saved him from death.
He is greatly relieved that Tersa is on her way back to The Ranch. If there’s anywhere safe in this world it would be there. During their meal he asked James to use his mirror to check on them and had found them camped along the trail. From the way everyone was relaxed around the campfire listening to Moyil tell a story, he knew they were alright. It must have been a comical one from the way they were all smiling and laughing.
Every time one of the sleepers would make a noise, he would glance into the camp. After what James had told him of Miko’s experience two nights ago, he’s been worried Miko may have another episode.
It’s drawing closer to the time for him to wake Stig for his turn. How they all miss the younger guys who use to pull this duty. Another noise from the camp and again he looks to where Miko is sleeping. This time he sees one of Miko’s arms moving, if only slightly. Worried, he moves into the camp toward him.
When he reaches his side, he sees sweat beading on his forehead and his lips are moving in silent conversation. James is lying next to his friend and Jiron quietly wakes him. Once James’ eyes open and he sees him kneeling beside him, he nods to Miko and whispers, “He’s having another dream.”
Instantly awake he looks over to where Miko has begun t
o thrash more animatedly. “Get Brother Willim,” he says as he moves to Miko’s side.
Jiron nods and goes to get him.
Just as before Miko thrashes, sweats, and his mouth works silently. James is about to awaken him again when a green glow springs to life and Brother Willim steps to his side. “Don’t,” he tells him.
James’ hand stops bare inches away and he turns to glance up at the priest of Asran. “Shouldn’t we do something?” he asks with a catch in his voice.
“Is it the same as before?” asks Jiron. He was told after the last time that Brother Willim had sensed another presence during the time Miko was affected by the dream.
Nodding, Brother Willim says, “Exactly the same.”
“But,” argues James, “we must do something.”
By this time the rest of the camp has awakened and stands in a semicircle around them. “I heard about something like this before,” Scar says. “It was back in…”
“Not now Scar!” exclaims James.
“Yes now!” he retorts back which draws everyone’s attention. “I know you guys don’t believe half the things we say but you need to listen now.” Beside him Potbelly nods in agreement.
“What is it?” asks James in exasperation. He turns back to his friend on the ground all the while keeping an ear to what Scar is saying.
“There is a way for you to help him,” he insists. “You need to understand what is being sent and why.”
“How is he to do that?” asks Jiron.
“You must join him in his dream,” replies Scar.
At that James turns and looks at him. “I can’t do that.”
“There is a way,” he tells him. “When a person is within a dream or vision sent by a god or being of power, it is possible to join them in the dream.”
“How?” James asks.
Scar glances around to the others before retuning his gaze to James. “Take hold of his hand and send magic without guidance into him,” he explains. “Whatever power has hold of him will latch onto it. If at that instance you push your awareness into Miko along with the magic, you will be drawn in.”
“How do you know this?” asks Jiron.
“Just believe me,” Scar insists, ignoring Jiron’s question. “You need to get in there.”
James sees the sincerity in Scar’s eyes. Turning to Brother Willim he asks, “Is it possible?”
“I don’t know,” he admits. “As part of the Hand of Asran, we were more into the practical use of Asran’s power. We didn’t spend much time on theory. It sounds plausible though.”
James turns his attention back to Miko and sees him thrashing about. Stig has taken hold of his arms so he won’t hurt himself. As James reaches out his hand to take Miko’s, Jiron grabs his arm.
“What if he’s wrong?” he asks.
“It feels right,” is the only reply he can give. “Let go.”
Jiron removes his hand from James’ arm.
Now free of Jiron’s grip, James takes Miko’s hand. He takes a deep calming breath then sends magic through the connections of their hands and into Miko. Immediately it’s grasped by whatever has hold of Miko and he thrusts his awareness along the magical stream.
“Catch him!” hollers Jiron as James suddenly stiffens and begins toppling to the side. Brother Willim reaches him before he can hit the ground and then carefully lays him down.
Indicating where James has hold of Miko’s hand, Scar says, “Make sure the connection isn’t broken.”
“Why?” asks Jiron.
“It could be bad,” he explains.
“Bad?” exclaims Jiron. Coming to stand in front of Scar he shouts, “What do you mean, bad?”
“It worked!” is all he can say when he all of a sudden is standing within a city. At a crossroads of intersecting streets, he looks first up one and down the other. Except for himself the place is deserted.
“Miko!” he yells. Listening for a moment he fails to hear a reply. Then from the far side of town a bright light pushes back the gloom. Neither night nor day, the city seems to be in a place of in-between.
He breaks into a run toward the light. After what seems a very long distance, the street he’s on turns into a broad avenue. The bright light is coming from the end of the avenue. Hurrying toward it, he reaches the place where the street opens up onto a large courtyard. In the center of which stands a building, the building being the source of the light.
“Miko!” he cries out. Again no reply. The light coming from the building is blindingly bright but he’s able to make out an open doorway at its base directly ahead of him. Shielding his eyes against the light, he crosses the courtyard quickly and passes through the doorway.
Once inside, the blinding light diminishes to a more comfortable level. Still no discernable source for the light, it seems as if the stones of the walls themselves are aglow.
“Miko! Where are you?” Still no reply. Moving forward down the hallway he has a feeling of urgency, of needing to find Miko and fast.
Quickening his pace, he flies down the hallway until it opens up onto a large room. In the center of the room is an opening revealing a stairway leading down. Feeling as if he’s been here before, he approaches the opening and gazes down. A flight of fourteen steps descend down to what looks to be another level.
Taking the steps quickly, he finds himself in another hallway extending ahead. The glow which had pervaded the stones above is present here as well. “Miko?” he hollers into the hallway. When no answer is forthcoming, he moves down the hallway, a little more cautiously this time.
As he progresses down the hallway, he sees a figure standing with his back to him. Before the figure is a door standing ajar. “Miko?” James asks as he slows his pace even further. When he gets closer he sees that it is in fact Miko.
“Miko!” he hollers and rushes to his friend.
Miko turns his head and says, “I need to get in there.”
“Why?” James asks as he comes to stop at his side.
“If I don’t, something bad is going to happen,” he replies.
“Something bad?” he asks. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I,” he replies.
James reaches for the door to open it and Miko says, “Don’t.”
“How are we to get in if we don’t open the door?” James asks.
Miko looks at him and shakes his head. “I have to get in there,” he repeats.
Then all of a sudden, the light that had been constant since he first entered the building starts to dim. Glancing behind them back down the hallway, he sees the end of the hallway growing dark. And the darkness is moving toward them.
“We can’t stay here,” he says. The sight of the darkness sends a tremor of fear through him. Reaching for the door, he again hears Miko say, “Don’t.”
“There’s no other place to go!” he hollers. Taking hold of the door, he pulls it open. For a brief moment he sees the interior of the room, octagonal in shape with a raised pedestal rising from the floor in the center of the room.
Then, a presence comes bringing fear and sapping their strength. The room grows dark as a wave of force lashes into them. Knocking them off their feet, it sends them flying backward down the hallway toward the approaching blackness.
James summons the magic and forms a protective barrier around them. Striking out with magic of his own, he attacks the presence within the room but has no effect. A ripple of laughter, more felt than heard, comes to him from the room as the blackness which has been drawing closer finally arrives.
The stones all around them grow dim and when the darkness touches them it burns like acid. Even the barrier surrounding them does little to keep the darkness from them. Pain, torturing pain erupts from every nerve ending on his body. The last thing James sees is the door to the room slamming shut before he blacks-out.
When James passed out after touching Miko’s hand, they watched him closely for several minutes. Anxious that what Scar had suggested might in some way hur
t him, they were relieved when he continued breathing and appeared as if he were asleep. Miko too seemed to quiet down shortly after James joined him.
“Keep an eye on them,” Jiron says to Brother Willim.
Sitting down next to them, he gives Jiron a nod.
“Now,” Jiron says as he turns back to Scar, “just where did you learn this little tidbit of information?”
Scar glances to Potbelly and licks his lips. Turning back to look into the intense gaze of Jiron, he says, “Back in the City of Light.” When Jiron doesn’t make any comment he licks his lips again and adds, “From Sorenta.”
“Sorenta?” he asks incredulously. From the way he said the name it’s obvious he knows of whom Scar is referring to.
“Who’s Sorenta?” asks Shorty.
“She’s a prostitute,” replies Potbelly. “Worked over in Mother Chlia’s place.”
“You risked his life based on a story a prostitute told you?” Shorty asks in disbelief.
“You don’t understand,” explains Scar. “She wasn’t just a prostitute. She had the ‘gift’. At least that’s what she called it.”
“That’s right,” agrees Potbelly. “There were times when we would visit her when it happened. She said it rarely came while someone else was around, and that since it did, it must mean something.”
“And when it happened, she told you to have James take Miko’s hand?” asks Jiron.
“Not exactly, no,” replies Potbelly.
“When I saw Miko there and heard what James and Brother Willim said to each other, I knew I had to tell you,” Scar states. “At the time she told us, she wasn’t sure why she felt she had to only that she did. Said the information could come in handy some day, though she was a bit vague about when.”
“Things happen for a reason,” Brother Willim says from where he sits next to James and Miko. “Who are we to judge their merits?”
“What should we do?” Stig asks.
The Mists of Sorrow: The Morcyth Saga Book Seven Page 5