‘The man-gods are impressed with your courage and skill Rogan, particularly Loden, your own Northlands deity. They are more than pleased with the way you have conducted yourself in the prelude to the coming challenge, even if at times you have been a little childish and disrespectful of them.’ The Oracle smiled beneath his hood at the thought, his eyes shining like white fire.
‘In the last then thousand years, no hero has ever fulfilled the criteria of all three initial tests with such vigour, passion and valour, and come through them unscathed as you have today. Indeed, your father named you well, in honour of the great dragon of legend. For you have a tenacity and spirit which can only be forged in the heart and mind of a true hero. Sigred himself – the warrior who killed your namesake – would be proud of your exploits.’ The Oracle paused briefly, studying their faces, then continued. ‘Each of you will now be allowed to throw down the Runes of Fortune to see which of you shall begin the Quest and from where.
‘Should the man-gods send you forth first, you may choose your own destination. The Enchanted Cities exist somewhere past the mists of Maca, and as I have said, no one has ever completed the Quest and lived to tell the tale in over ten thousand years. Nevertheless, the man-gods will grant the ultimate prize of immortality if one of you can succeed. You will live amongst them for all eternity as their perpetual guardian. So, now is the time. Ready yourselves and steel your nerves.’
From out of thin air the runes magically appeared, falling at Rogan’s feet. ‘My friends,’ he said picking them up, his voice deep and resonant ‘I have the greatest respect and admiration for you all as fellow warriors. I therefore salute you and wish you all well. But should our paths cross after this day, I will have no choice but to eliminate you.’ He handed the runes to Kira as a courtesy. And as she reached to take them he leaned forward, kissing her hand, gazing up into her beautiful face. He heaved an irrepressible sigh, staring into her fever bright eyes. His feelings for her had magnified and he feared for her safety in the coming days, knowing their quest was far more dangerous than he had ever imagined.
She shook the runes and threw them down onto the sand. Six black arrowheads pointed at her. ‘Beat that,’ she said, her gaze wandering out across the mist covered arena. It was the most ghostly place she had ever seen in her entire life. It looked like somewhere from a time so distant as to be forgotten by all.
‘The man-gods are with you today,’ said Rogan, genuinely pleased for her. ‘Who wants to throw the runes next?’ One by one the warriors took their turn to decide the order of participation. Kira would begin first. Then Dopiaza. Vinn. Baltar. Ofash and finally Rogan.
The sky above them now looked grey and angry. ‘Your lives, souls and future existence on this mortal plane, or any other, will depend upon how well you fare in the coming days,’ announced the Oracle. ‘Your bravery and strength of character will also be tested to the farthest limits of blood-blood endurance. And that which you have endured as a team will be nothing compared to that which you will suffer alone.
'As you travel, each of you will encounter friendly and unfriendly entities. Some will be strange and exotic. Some large. Some small. And the man-gods will scrutinize your every move. Finally, you must solve the problems set before you to enable you to obtain the six sacred Firestars, for they alone have the power to grant immortality. As I foretold once before, murder and mayhem will follow you. Good sense and the fates must guide you. The man-gods may love or leave you. And there can only be one champion. Good luck my friends.’ He vanished into the mist and was gone, his voice echoing hauntingly.
The cloud filled arena disappeared. Now each warrior had a very different view of the terrain that stretched for miles before them. The man-gods had transported Kira to a vast rocky landscape. Dopiaza materialized in the sandy expanses of an endless desert. Vinn was whisked to a dark forest overlooking a port. Baltar appeared at the edge of a rugged precipice, gazing down at an endless drop. And Ofash stood staring at a gigantic bridge surrounded by molten lava. Finally, Rogan was standing in a glen, shrouded by mist with tall conifers scattered everywhere, and he stared hard at the ruined stone wall barring his way. It was immense.
The man-gods had granted them the amulet gained earlier, the purse of Golden Starpieces given to them by Master Lydas and all had a Narok lamp with a Mage Majiker imprisoned within. They could only use it once as the man-gods would then take it away from them. Therefore, they must use it wisely and at a time of its greatest need.
Finally and most importantly, they each had one of the Firestars Rogan had discovered in the Cyclopia’ cave. Separately they were worth a fortune because of their extraordinary size, but joined together with the others they were to find, they were of a very different nature. They would grant their owner immortality. In fact, they were so powerful, they could even bring the dead back to life, provided that their soul had not been taken by the Black Angel of Death.
Now the six heroes were about to undertake the challenge of a lifetime, for the prize of a lifetime. ‘Let the Quest begin, so say the man-gods,’ the Oracle’s voice announced.
Chapter 6
Kira scanned the mountainous landscape before her as fine rain drizzled from a darkening sky. Bruise-purple thunderheads were stacking up in the west and a web of lightning hotter than a star flashed, exploding all around her. She loosened the collar of her leather and chain mail tunic to help her breathe easier. She wiped the rain from her face and then took the runes from her small knapsack, throwing them to the ground. A single arrowhead pointed west.
‘Oh, great man-gods,’ she prayed, hands steepled in front of her face, ‘I promise to do everything I can to win the Quest, no matter what trials or tribulations you set before me. And I ask only one favour in return. Judge me for who I am – a blue-blood hero-warrior born and bred – for if I fail it will not be for a lack of trying or because I am faint hearted. It will simply be, because another hero of equal or superior skill has bested me on their better day.’
With that she picked up the runes and set off marching west with her sword slung over her shoulder, the Mage’s lamp and purse of Golden Starpieces hanging from her belt, and her small knapsack containing a single Firestar on her back. Then for hours she made her way over the rolling hills, the fine rain gradually getting heavier as the red-giant sun set, fiery red. Darkness spread over the land like a plague of locusts and the moons rose cool and white. And as she marched she began to wonder who or what she would encounter first.
She crossed derelict bridges, long forgotten footpaths; winding goat-trails and followed a meandering river until finally as the sixth hour of her journey approached she climbed to the top of a steep grassy knoll. There before her, standing cold and silent was a wall of huge granite blocks that was at least fifty feet high, stretching for as far as the eye could see. Flashes of lightning lit the wall and thunderbolts burst amongst the clouds. A wooden gateway that was impossibly large seemed to be the only visible entrance to the wall, and that was at least a league and a half away from where she was standing. More thunder rolled overhead and rain sheeted down, lashing her, and the faint taste of sea salt from the Merithian Sea washed unmistakably over her lips.
‘You’re not making any of this easy for me – are you,’ she screamed to the man-gods looking skyward. Another web of lightning lit the darkness, illuminating the whole landscape. She was soaked. So she made her way quickly towards the great door with increasing speed. Within minutes she was standing beneath an archway, overhung by ivy, creepers and vines. The gate was ajar and she found herself looking through the dim twilight at what seemed to be a different world. Dozens of towers with rooftops like spears pointed skyward for as far as the eye could see. And at the centre of this deserted, partly fallen citadel was a mountainous obelisk hundreds of feet high, surrounded by a staircase reaching right to the very top.
Pausing briefly she studied the obelisk. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand proud of the skin and cold shivers run down her spi
ne like slivers if ice. She scanned the ruins before her as another bolt of lightning screaming earthward, crashing into the obelisk with a thunderous roar. Suddenly it was aflame. Then a voice unfamiliar to her called out from behind.
Startled, she spun around. And there in the shadows was the silhouetted figure of a mightily built warrior with long flowing white hair. He was over seven feet tall, wearing black Vindaluvian battledress, and his face had the most wholesome, devastatingly good-looking features she had ever seen on any male, including Rogan. His electric-blue eyes burned into hers. Numbed by the cold driving rain and startled by the sudden appearance of the newcomer she was unable to speak, but when she’d gathered her thoughts she drew her sword quickly, pointing it at the stranger. ‘Who are you? And what is this place?’
There was the flash… flash… flash… of lightning and thunder burst in the heavens. ‘I'm Tor, son of Loden. And this place is Balthazar, a once mighty, and thriving metropolis of wonder now long dead,’ he said, staring icily at her.
She paused fixing his steely gaze, studying him through childlike eyes. ‘Then, why are you here in this city of desolation and gloom?’
Tor’s face was shadowed. And though his eyes were deepest blue, they seemed dark and haunted, reminding her in some strange way of how her dead father looked the last time she saw him, before he was murdered.
‘I'm here as an emissary of the man-gods,’ he announced, stepping forward into what little light there was. ‘I came to inform you that you must climb the Obelisk of Enchantment – the great monument standing at the centre of this desolate city. One of the Firestars you seek waits within. But beware; it's a dangerous and deadly place.' After informing her of her task and warning her of the danger, he screamed Loden’s name, and a bolt of light flashed from the heavens, striking him, illuminating him with a bright light. Within the blink of an eye he was gone.
‘Unbelievable,’ she whispered, unable to comprehend what she'd witnessed with her own eyes. She thought of Tor’s last words. Beware, for it’s a dangerous and deadly place. She shivered at the thought, sheathing her sword and entered the gateway to the roar and rattle of thunder, unaware that something monstrously evil was stalking her in the shadows.
Slowly, she criss-crossed the deserted ruins, all the while having a feeling that she was being watched and studied, yet unable to see anyone or anything moving around above ground or lurking in the shadows. She moved on – tired and hungry, wondering what dread force had sucked the life from the city – sheltering briefly in a deserted grain store, and then moved on again after feeding on a handful of dry oats. The buildings she passed were all empty and uninhabited, and the once beautiful gardens black and dry. There was no water to be seen either. The whole community robbed of its sustenance had simply ceased to exist.
Finally, she arrived at the base of the obelisk and stood gazing up in awe. And she would have sworn that there was a strange shimmering light, shining up at the very top. Not wanting to waste a single second, she took a running jump and leapt across the deep pit of molten lava, rock and ash surrounding the tower and clung onto a ledge with her fingertips. She swung like a pendulum, until she eventually hauled herself up onto an outcropping and stared out across the moonlit landscape from horizon to horizon. A ghostly mist was drifting in across the city shrouding it, and she seemed to hear mocking laughter in her head.
Now she began to climb the staircase swiftly. Although she did experience a sudden urge to turn about and go straight back the way she had come. Every now and then she paused, gazing out across the city in growing wonder. Even though long dead and decayed it was somehow vaster and more beautiful than anything she had ever seen or dreamt of.
Storey upon storey she climbed without resting, and the closer she got to the top the more the storm raged. Until finally, almost exhausted and freezing she reached a small opening at the top of the obelisk and climbed through. Flaming torches in iron brackets hung upon the walls inside, but it was still dim and she couldn’t see clearly. She felt her way down the small passageway, crouching as she went. Peering about nervously she switched her gaze from side to side. Then front to back every now and again remembering Tor’s words. Beware; it’s a dangerous and deadly place. The mere thought made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She approached a small trapdoor at the end of the passageway. A tapping sound came from somewhere behind it, eerily growing louder. Her heart raced. She drew her sword from its scabbard. With her free hand she turned the handle of the door, swinging it open quickly. It cre-e-aked noisily. Two startled blackbirds shot out hitting her in the face and her heart nearly burst out of her chest. She fell back onto the passageway floor in shock, screaming. ‘Oh my lords! I’m beginning to think my days are numbered!’ Her face resembled a death mask. It was grey, her eyes stark.
The passageway door was now wide open and more flaming torches lit her way, making the next chamber a lot brighter. A draught from behind chilled her neck as she rolled to her knees, crawling – like a spider – through the small opening into a large dungeon-like chamber. Skeletons of creatures unknown to her littered the walls, hanging in rusty chains. It smelt fusty inside, reeking of mildew, and had not been open to the air for hundreds of years, she suspected. Cobwebs and thick dust lay everywhere. And by the look of the place it had been some sort of sacrificial chamber.
As she entered, she had a strange feeling that someone or something was watching and studying her. She could feel a presence in the room and hear low rasping breathing. And even though she couldn’t see who or what it was, she could feel eyes burning into her. She did however, have a feeling that it was something creepy. Horrible. Deadly.
Chilled, she slowly turned full circle, scanning the room. She could see no one. And she was completely unaware of the large, three toed footprints approaching her in the fine dust on the floor. Without warning and with dizzying speed, the dreadful invisible spirit struck a blow to the side of her face, sending her spinning through the air. She tumbled headlong into the shadows. Blackness engulfed her and the room spun wildly in her mind. She laid waiting for the sensation to stop. Then she climbed to her feet, hauling herself upright.
Dazed, she turned full circle again. But she couldn't see the thing. And she never thought to look down at the dusty floor. Drawing her sword she prodded air, unaware that it was now behind her. She trembled, conscious of a low rumbling growl. Her heart was thumping in her chest.
Lightning flash… flash… flashed through high arched windows and thunder rolled somewhere overhead. The thing struck again, slashing three deep wounds to the back of her left shoulder. She screamed, thrashing the air with her sword. ‘Come on you merciless coward,’ she said through gritted teeth. 'Show yourself. For I am Kira of Cardobia, and am afraid of thee not.’
There was silence. Then chilling laughter broke the silence, followed by another low rumbling growl. The thing seized her, slamming her against a far wall. She smashed into the skeletons and shards of bone flew everywhere. Stunned and shaken with the sword knocked from her hand, she lay where she fell. How can I fight something I can’t see, she thought? Instantly the answer came to her. Cover it with something! But what?
Thunder rolled outside. More lightning flash… flash… flashed through the windows startling her. Her eyes darted around the chamber as the breath of the thing burned against the back of her neck, fetid and raw. Then there was the cold touch of something inhuman on her skin. Terror streaked through her.
Jumping back to her feet, she finally noticed the footprints in the dust on the floor and realised the thing was stalking her again. Waiting calmly until the last moment when it was no more than a few feet away, she spun on one leg and lashed out with the other, kicking it. Moments later she saw something crash into a cobweb covered table, smashing it to pieces. A cloud of fine dust filled the room, stinging her eyes. She screamed. ‘That was a small taste of the deadly sting I have in my tail.’
Satisfied with her success against the invisible spirit h
er confidence grew. But then something began to take shape in the dust cloud. It hauled itself upright, barking an unearthly growl, stretching almost leisurely to its full height of twice that of a man. She had no idea what the thing was and didn’t want to know. But it did look like a wolf crossed with a mightily built bear.
More lightning flashed through the windows illuminating the thing, making it look even more terrifying. Terror streaked through her heart again. She sucked in her breath slowly, eyes wide, watching it grow even larger through disbelieving eyes. It was a monstrous, grizzly thing of spines and claws, with a long snout full of sharp teeth. It glared at her through blood-red eyes as a giant might at a bothersome fly. Now she could see its outline and features a sick feeling burgeoned in her stomach unnerving her, and she almost wished that she couldn’t see it.
Without a moment’s hesitation she lunged forward with a powerful kick to the thing’s abdomen, followed by a spinning kick and a jumping kick to its head. It staggered backwards. Then she noticed one of the splintered legs of the broken table sticking up behind it. She ran, jumping high into the air with both feet landing heavily on its chest, punching it through the air. It crashed onto the wood with a heavy thud. The thing’s body arched up as the table leg slammed through its back and came out through its chest, impaling it. A strangled cry echoed from its lips and it sagged back, taking its final breath of life with its mouth hanging open.
Finally, she stood over the thing, kicking it to make sure it was dead. ‘I warned you about the sting in my tail,’ she said wheeling around, heading for an iron door at the far end of the chamber.
Then a voice called out to her from the shadows of a balcony above. ‘The way you killed that hideous thing was impressive, but you had no idea it was stalking you in the city far below, did you?’
Startled by the deep resonant voice she swung around, glancing up at the newcomer who was hooded and cloaked. She breathed a sigh of relief, because this time the stranger appeared to be a human being. ‘To tell the truth, I did have the feeling of being watched and followed in the city. But I ignored it,’ she admitted.
The Blackhawks Impossible Quest Page 7