She looked at him and tilted her head slightly as she studied him.
“What else can it be? There are no dark gods in this universe, Simon. There are malevolent forces, yes. There are ethereal beings that can be mischievous or even harmful. But I doubt that you have attracted their attention. I think it is simply a case of bad timing.”
Simon watched the kallorian as it seemed to mindlessly wander back and forth across the open area. It was at least thirty feet in length, dark green and covered in spines. It reminded him a little bit of a porcupine, if a porcupine had the fanged head of a huge snake. Its four feet were clawed and, maybe it was just his imagination, but Simon thought that it looked really pissed off.
“Do they always look so...irritated?” he asked the elf quietly.
She laughed silently.
“I have no idea. I haven't made a study of the kallorian. But they are blood-thirsty and fast and hunt each other as eagerly as they hunt any other creature. That is why I thought that they might have become extinct. They are known to kill each other even while mating. It is a cold-hearted animal.”
“Huh. Just sounds like it's crazy to me. Anyway, that doesn't really matter. The question is, how do we get past it? Can we flank it, travel sideways through the forest until the way is clear and then cross the open ground?”
“What would be the point?”
Ethmira pointed to the left and right of the fort. Dellis Varna sat on the lowest slopes of the mountains. The forest literally stopped a hundred yards from where the slopes began to rise, as if some force had dictated that the trees could not grow beyond that point. As far as Simon could see in both directions, there was no cover except for low brush anywhere.
“We must cross no matter what. And whether we cross here, or two miles away, we must still follow the base of the mountain range back to the fort. And if we do that, the kallorian will see us. Their eyesight is legendary. Besides,” she added as she quickly looked up at the open sky, “we have no time. The portal will be opened no more than an hour from now. We must be across and inside Dellis Varna before that happens.”
“Damn it, damn it,” Simon muttered in frustration.
He thought frantically for a moment.
“Can we kill it?” he asked abruptly as he watched the patrolling monster.
“Kill it?”
“Yes, kill it. Does it have a weakness? Will our arrows penetrate that spiky hide? Maybe we can blind it? Those eyes look vulnerable.”
Ethmira shook her head as he spoke.
“You dream, my friend. You dream. The kallorian's hide is too thick for our missiles. Yes, I might be able to hit an eye. Once. But twice? Impossible. And even blind, the beast could track us by scent. No, that's not even...”
Her voice trailed off as she stared at the creature through narrowed eyes.
“But you might be on to something. We don't need to kill it, just distract it long enough for you to get across the open area and into the fort. Once inside, you can make your way to the main hall and wait. The portal will appear there.”
Simon looked at her, alarmed by what she was saying.
“Whoa, whoa, hang on a second. What's all this 'I can do this' and 'I can do that' stuff? Dellis Varna is huge. I have no idea where the main hall is. You'll have to guide me. Um, you do know where it is, right?”
The elf chuckled, her eyes still on the monster.
“Yes, Simon, I know where it is. But it isn't hard to find. You simply enter through the main doors and go straight toward the center of the building. The hall itself takes up most of the space inside. You can't miss it.”
He squinted in the bright sunshine and looked at the entrance into the fort. There must have been a pair of doors that opened there, once upon a time, but they were long gone. Now just a gaping dark hole led inside. It almost looked like a mouth and he looked away with a nervous shiver.
“And what are you going to be doing while I'm stumbling around in there alone?” he asked irritably.
“Leading the kallorian away, of course,” Ethmira replied with a shrug. “What else? It's the only logical solution.”
“Lead it away? That's crazy. That thing looks completely nuts. And you're going to what? Piss it off even more?”
“Something like that.”
She smiled at him fondly, leaned over and put a hand on his shoulder.
“I'll be find, Simon. Really. You've seen how fast I can move through the trees when I need to. But if we want to get you back home, this is your one chance and you must take it. Are you with me?”
He looked from the elf to the monster and back again. Her willingness to put herself in harm's way for him was touching and stopped his arguments in his throat. Who was he to cheapen her wish to play bait to give him his chance to go home?
He nodded and then cleared his throat as he tried to speak.
“Ethmira, I can't begin to tell you what your friendship and aid have meant to me. Not just these past few days, but ever since you and your people first gave me sanctuary here, in your world. I'm going to miss you almost as much as I miss Daniel. And that's a lot.”
The elven maiden smiled again and moved her hand up to stroke his cheek once.
“That is the greatest compliment you could have given me, my friend. I shall miss you too, down through the ages to come. But it will lighten my heart knowing that you returned home and took up the fight again against the Darkness.”
She looked fierce suddenly, as only an elf can.
“And this time, Simon, fight to win. The lords of Chaos will show you and yours no mercy; show them none in return.”
“I won't. I promise.”
“Good.”
She slipped her bow off of her shoulder, set an arrow into it and drew back her arm.
“Now, get ready. And take care, my friend. I wish you luck.”
“Thanks. You too. And I'm ready whenever you are.”
“Now.”
Ethmira sighted down the arrow and let the missile fly with typical elven grace. It shot out of the trees toward the stalking kallorian with laser-like accuracy and slammed into the right eye of the monster with a wet popping sound that they could hear from fifty feet away.
Simon gagged a bit as the creature shrieked in agony. He looked at Ethmira and gaped as he saw her drop swiftly from branch to branch and then to the ground twenty feet beneath them.
“What are you doing?” he called down to her, panicking a bit.
“Getting its attention, of course. How else will it know who to chase?”
Oh crap. He hadn't thought of that.
“Here!” Ethmira shouted. “Over here!”
She waved at the kallorian. It was spinning around, looking for its foe, red ichor dripping from its wounded right eye. The arrow still protruded from the collapsed orb, vibrating horribly.
It caught sight of her almost at once with its remaining eye and roared in fury. As it began to charge at her with horrific speed, Ethmira glanced up at Simon one last time.
“Remember to take to the branches once you get deeper into the forest,” he shouted down at her.
She smiled ruefully as she began to run.
“It won't matter,” she called back, her voice fading quickly. “Kallorian's can climb trees.”
And then she was gone.
Simon stared after her in disbelief, frozen in the moment. And when the kallorian shot by beneath him, hissing like a gigantic snake, it never even looked up at the still figure.
My God, that thing can climb? It moves like the wind. Ethmira doesn't stand a chance against it!
Move, damn it, another part of his mind shouted at him. She did this for you, so move your ass!
There was no sound except for a few distant bird calls. Both Ethmira and the kallorian had been swallowed by the forest. He hesitated again, and then with an angry growl, began to climb out of the tree as quickly as he could.
Once on the ground, Simon didn't hesitate. Maybe the monster would stay focused on
the elf, but maybe it would return to the open field. He couldn't take any chances. He ran.
Small bushes, thick weeds and dead branches snagged at his feet at he raced toward the fort, and Simon stumbled and skittered like a drunkard as he sprinted as fast as he could. Time was running out. He could feel it, as if the air around him was thickening like pudding and slowly smothering him. In the back of his mind, he heard the tick tick tick of a dire clock counting down the minutes until the portal opened. He had to move faster.
The fort loomed above him, a squat giant sitting on the edge of the mountains, waiting to swallow him whole. He aimed for its gaping maw of a doorway and ran like he'd never run before; sides burning, lungs gasping for air. He had to make it, for Ethmira's sake if not his own. He had to.
He burst through the large empty gate, slipped on a pile of dead leaves and fell down, scraping his palms as he braced himself. The bite of pain almost made him cry out, but pain wasn't a new sensation to him and he smothered the urge and pressed his lips together as he silently cursed.
The entrance hall to the fort wasn't much wider than the doorway, perhaps eight feet, and Simon wondered whether the kallorian would even fit through the entrance if it did return to chase him. Certainly whoever had built the place in the distant past hadn't created it to accommodate parades.
The corridor was dark after the sunlight from outside, but the walls were surprisingly bright, covered in tiny ceramic tiles of many colors. The tiles created patterns that the elves loved so much and that often gave Simon a headache if he stared at them too long. But they were still vibrant after eons and glowed a bit, even in the darkness.
He pushed himself to his feet with a hiss of pain and wiped his hands off clumsily on some dead leaves. They crackled and crunched and he flinched at the sound. Now that he was still again, he realized just how quiet, how heavy the atmosphere had become. It was ominous.
The main hall is straight ahead, he told himself. That was what Ethmira had said. Now to find it.
He walked cautiously forward, stepping over some fallen masonry. Dellis Varna had held up remarkably well over the centuries, but still it was slowly deteriorating, falling into ruin.
No wonder Ethmira wanted to renovate it, Simon thought a bit sadly. If they leave it much longer, the place will be beyond repair. If it isn't already.
There were doorways that opened into shadow on the right and left as he moved forward, but Simon couldn't make out any details as he passed them and couldn't spare the time to explore. He wondered what amazing secrets they might hold. He'd never know now.
At the end of the hallway was an intact door, made of rusted iron and almost closed. Simon stared at it, squinting in the gloom. He reached out and touched it with his fingertips and felt pieces of rust flake off of its surface.
Elves don't build with metal, he thought nervously. And they certainly don't make massive iron doors with it. Why is this here?
He hesitated and then stepped forward. He leaned against the door with his shoulder and gave it a shove. After a brief hesitation, it slowly began to open with a ear-splitting shriek of rusted metal hinges.
Oh great, he thought. Just announce yourself to the whole world, why don't you?
He only opened the door wide enough to squeeze through and then slipped past it into the hall beyond.
“Whoa,” he whispered.
The hall was round and about a hundred feet across. The walls were covered with pale metal, of a kind that Simon had never seen before. Whatever it was, it must have been used more for decoration than strength, because over the centuries, the center of the rounded ceiling had caved in and collapsed into a heap of rusted metal in the middle of the hall.
It was so quiet. Simon leaned back against the heavy door as he stared upward and it creaked loudly, the sound echoing around the room.
He jerked forward skittishly and watched, wide-eyed, as bits of debris were dislodged from the ceiling and floated down through the rays of sunlight that penetrated the hall through its broken roof. The edges of the gaping hole looked unstable and he carefully moved away from the door, trying not to make any noise.
The floor was covered with a thick layer of dust mixed with metallic flakes, old dried leaves and assorted rubbish. Thankfully it muffled his footsteps and was also evidence that no one had been in the building for ages.
Simon scanned the room, looking for any sign of a disturbance. The portal was supposed to appear in the hall someplace, but where?
He walked forward carefully, little puffs of dust rising as he moved. What could this room have been used for? Offices? A soldier's mess hall? A social center? Perhaps all or none of those. But its age hung heavily in the air and was a powerful reminder of just how ancient the elven race really was.
“Come on,” Simon murmured as he nervously looked around. “Where the hell are you?”
He was here and the time was now. Ethmira was out there in the forest somewhere, running for her life to buy him enough time to cross back to his own world. He spared a fervent prayer that she would be all right. So where was the damned portal?
A crackling sound, horrendously loud in the dead silence, ripped through the air. At the apex of the central pile of detritus, an oval hole appeared. Its jagged edges snapped with arcing streaks of light, like small bolts of lightning.
“Oh crap,” Simon said in disgust. “Great place to stick it, folks.”
The pile of ruined metal was about ten feet high and riddled with pointy, rusted pieces of metal. It looked unstable and dangerous as Simon moved to its base and looked up at the shimmering portal. It was also the only way to reach the magical gateway.
With a wince at the thought of getting lockjaw, he began to try to climb the debris without slashing his hands and arms to shreds.
It was like trying to climb a pile of ice pieces. The rubble began to cascade down as soon as he put a foot down on it and Simon was forced to ignore his fear of injury and dig into the rubbish to find something to hold on to.
He could feel the old, strange metal slashing his fingers and the sharp pain of it cutting into his flesh. In any other circumstances, he would have stopped but the pulsing, flashing portal kept him climbing. It was translucent and fading in and out of existence and he knew that it would only remain open for a few minutes.
Progress was slow and exhausting, not to mention painful, but Simon was within a couple of feet of the portal when a spine-tingling howl echoed through the massive hall, bringing a rain of metal flakes and a few heavier pieces of the roof tumbling down around the wizard.
“Oh crap,” he muttered.
He looked over his shoulder just in time to see the metal door slam open, smash into the wall and tear off of its hinges. The kallorian stood there, its horrible head and heavy torso filling the doorway.
Blood painted its jaws, but whether it was its own or Ethmira's, Simon couldn't tell. Horribly, the arrow still stuck out of its ruined eye as it looked around the room, searching for its prey.
The single glowing red eye locked on to Simon's and it howled again, a sound of hatred and hunger, and it leaped forward, maw agape.
“Crap. Crap, crap, crap!” the wizard shouted as he scrambled toward the portal, cuts and slashes be damned.
It was a near thing. His frantic scrabbling and shoving feet got him to the fading gateway just as the kallorian made a great bound upward, slashing at him with its razor-sharp claws.
Simon staggered through the portal at the same time as a horrific wave of pain shot up his leg. He stumbled forward and fell on his face, expecting the sharp metal to slash him to ribbons.
Instead, he landed in thick, sweet grass and rolled a few times before he came to a stop, staring up at a clear blue sky.
Waves of pain that pulsed up his right leg in time with his heartbeat made him sit up and look down, expecting to see himself bleeding out. But, although he did have a long cut that had ripped open his pants and ran down from the side of his leg from knee to ankle, the wound
was shallow and the bleeding was light.
He lay back and closed his eyes, breathing a long sigh of relief. The smell of crushed grass and rich earth filled his nostrils and he sucked in the scents, feeling almost intoxicated by the sweetness.
Home, he thought. I'm home.
Chapter 5
It must have been early in the day because the sun was still rising from the east. Simon eventually felt strong enough to stand and forced himself to his feet.
His leg had stopped bleeding, although the cuts on his fingers still dripped a bit. He ignored them.
The one good thing about having lived to middle age before he'd Changed, he thought, was that pain wasn't as scary as it had been when he'd been as young as he looked now.
He had landed in a rolling meadow filled with long grass and dotted with small trees. A forest surrounded the glade, but after his time in the elven realm, Simon thought that it looked small and not very inspiring.
The trees might have grown to heights of fifty feet or more but he was used to forests that towered overhead for hundreds of feet. He doubted that most earthen forests could compete.
He also had absolutely no idea where he was. He could see a few fir trees as well as elm and maple, but that told him nothing. If only he could Gate home, but...
Simon caught himself and laughed at his own stupidity.
“You're home, you idiot,” he said out loud. “Your powers should have returned.”
He raised his hands and looked at them. Bruised and bloody, cuts scattered across his fingers, they were still whole and he wiggled them tentatively.
Could he still cast spells? Was he still a wizard? Surely living in the elven realm hadn't destroyed his talent. Had it?
“Only one way to find out,” he murmured.
Simon searched the grass around him until he found a small length of wood. It was a dry old branch about a foot long. The breeze was light and the wizard pushed back his long mane of hair as he held up the stick and stared at it intently.
Try the simplest form of magic first, he thought. If it doesn't work...well, one step at a time.
Tales from the New Earth: Volume Two Page 86