by John Grover
Bridges spanned across the chasm, connecting both sides of the chamber.
Everyone looked up with awe. They were the only ones to stand and see where the First People had actually lived and thrived, where they’d built and created, where they’d ruled for thousands of years.
They stopped at a wall that had the most ledges. The lowest one was just out of reach of any of them, but Drith stepped to the forefront, and once more, scaled the wall.
He reached down to Tolan and helped him up to the ledge. The warrior, in turn, helped the last of the Cardoon soldiers. Shannara leaped through the air, flipped once, and locked onto Tolan’s arms, pulling herself up to the ledge. She winked at Pim and extended her arm.
Pim melted inside, but kept himself together. He took Shannara’s hand; her flesh was hot, her grip strong.
“Panno, you may come with me. Jodan,” Shannara addressed the other seer, “Stay here with my sisters. We want our backs guarded. We’ll take the journey to the next level.” She drew her dagblades again, and followed Tolan, Pim, and the others upward.
Each ledge acted as a step toward the top. Torches flickered in a slight breeze. Pim was between Tolan, above him, and Shannara, below. Drith led the charge, scuttling up the ledges with ease.
At last, they reached a huge doorway with massive, ornate pillars flanking each side. Pim marched through with the others, and froze in his steps. So did the rest of the group. The most amazing sight awaited them on the other side of the entryway.
A vast land stretched impossibly as far as the eye could see. A red and purple sky glowed with a blanket of stars, stretching to the horizon, where a rushing waterfall poured down into a shimmering river.
A mix of night and day permeated the land, dazzling Pim and the others. Trees and plant life glowed with phosphorescence. Birds dotted the sky, fluttering across it and into the trees.
Stone bridges with rocky banisters stretched from land to the walls and rooftops of ancient homes. They gazed upon the houses of the First People, the Mulcavrii. These stone dwellings were painted with vibrant mosaics, and carved with more runes and faces of the original inhabitants.
Almost unable to speak, Tolan managed to form words, and pointed out across the new land. “Let us enter their domain, their homes, to find the truth.”
“There’s an entire world inside here,” Pim said with excitement and wonder. “How is this even possible?”
“The First People possessed the Grimstone,” Shannara said. “Remember this, Pim. This kind of power comes with a price.”
They chose the first bridge they came to, and crossed it into the strange land. Pim felt the very stone of the bridge vibrating. He looked down to see a rushing river, and thick, lush green jungle encroaching on both of its banks.
A continuous wall connected all of the homes, running between and behind each one. The wall was crafted with many different shaped stones of varying colors.
Tolan got close to it and brought his torch directly before it. The light revealed drawings and painting of the Mulcavrii. “Here, as I thought, is where they recorded their lives.”
Pim stepped up to the wall, Shannara joining his side. They observed the First People in the midst of religious ceremonies, praying, blessing, and sacrificing. There were drawings of them dancing, crafting, and sculpting. There were drawings of them soaring through Athora’s young skies and misty seas.
One image showed the Mulcavrii discovering the Grimstone. It was found on a beach; it may or may not have been the Silver Coast to the west. They were shown playing with the stone, revering it, holding it above all else.
The stone rested on great pedestals until they learned to use its power, creating color and life, manipulating the weather, and multiplying the land’s food until things took a turn.
“Look here,” Tolan said as he stepped to a separate section of the wall strewn with cracks and holes. At his feet, he noticed the remains of what looked like tribal masks. He was careful to not step on them. “They began fighting over it, even warring with each other, spilling blood into the river, poisoning their beauty and families. The power got more unstable. Their war spilled outside their mountains and into Athora. Other creatures came for the stone. Out of caves, lakes, trees, all of them made war. The First People nearly wiped each other out. Green fires burned the forests, the skies rained with blood, the power of the stone threatened to tear the world apart.”
“They stopped themselves,” Pim said. He followed the story of the wall further down the road. “They tried destroying it, but it couldn’t be done. This shows them in their last attempt, when the stone shattered into three pieces.”
“But it stops there,” Shannara said. “It doesn’t show where they put the pieces.”
“That was probably intentional,” Tolan said. “They didn’t want any of their people going after them. Smart.”
“Now what?” she said.
Pim looked around, behind him, he saw Drith studying the wall, soaking in the scenes of the stone performing magic and miracles. He saw the Southerner mouth the word “food”.
Pim turned back, and followed the wall further. “There’s a map here… or part of one.”
The others joined the Wivering. The map was partly faded and smudged with mud.
“It still doesn’t show where the pieces were hidden,” Tolan said. “But this may have been where they held council and decided. They used the map to pick the best places.”
Shannara looked over the map until Panno, her seer, came to it. He ran his hand over it, and paused. His fingers wriggled over what appeared to be swamplands.
He turned to Shannara. “I know the next destination of our journey. This is why we came to the city of the First People: to be pointed in the right direction.”
“That looks like the swamplands on the other side of these mountains,” Tolan said. “Does your seer think one of the pieces is there?”
“No,” Shannara replied. “But there may be someone who does know where they are; someone maybe as old as the First People; someone who lived in their time, and still lives today.”
Drith looked over at them and snarled. “You’re talking of going to Mort A’ghas?”
“Aye.”
“We cannot go there,” he said with some fear. “It’s the Church of the Dead. It’s where the accursed go, the damned; things from the under lands, the shadows. We cannot go to that forbidden place.”
“I fear we have no choice.”
“No, the stone was discovered on the beaches of the Baltha Sea, on the Silver Coast. We should go there and search… perhaps there is another stone.”
“We could search a lifetime in the Blatha Sea and find nothing. There is only one Grimstone, and its pieces are hidden. We cannot find them alone.”
“Who do you speak of?” Pim asked.
“The Lich Lord,” Shannara answered. “Ruler of Mort A’ghas, the Church of the Dead.”
Chapter Eleven
Sooth-Malesh stood at the top of the rampart. The skies were dark, and the black clouds in the distance grew closer.
“They’ve continued their death march, haven’t they?” Olani joined his side, watching the scourge with him.
“Yes. They’ve destroyed every village they’ve encountered. Refugees have moved west and southwest. They’ve taken to the forests and the lakes, but it won’t help. The Neshing will find us all.”
“They will be stopped here. Cardoon will not fall.”
“Are you a seer, now?”
She laughed. “No. I just believe in you and your magic.”
“It will take more than belief this time, I’m afraid.”
“Yes, but it starts with yourself. Do not let despair take over.”
“You forget they have the stone on their side.”
“I do not forget, and they only have a piece of it. You are the arch mage of Cardoon; you can match them.”
“I cannot defeat them.”
“You do not have to.”
H
e looked into her eyes, then out at the farms and fields in front of the city. In the distance, he heard a swatch of drums on the wind. Except that, it was eerily quiet. There was tension in the air. His hands tingled.
“They will be here by the morning’s first light,” he said to Olani.
She nodded. “And you will fight them. Everyone here will fight them.”
“I can defend against them.”
“Fight them, Sooth-Malesh. Believe in it, and fight them.”
Sooth-Malesh walked away from her and returned to the wall. He shook his head and mumbled something under his breath. “It will not be easy.”
“Nothing worth fighting for ever is.”
The mage pushed the sleeves of his robes up to his elbows, lifting his arms. He caught the wind in his hands, spread his fingers, and pointed out to the fields. A spark of light shot from each of his hands and soared into the farmlands below. In mere moments, a wall of white energy rose from the ground.
The magic wall curled and drew a circle around all of Cardoon. It glowed with righteous, warm light, twinkling like a thousand jewels.
“I do not know how long it will stand,” Sooth-Malesh said. “I pray it will buy us the time we need.”
“When it falls, the battle of the ages will begin,” Olani said. “I will be ready this time.”
“Will you?” He asked her. “Take heed, Lady of the Council. A battle rages within these walls right now. I am not the only one who must believe in myself.”
Olani descended the steps of the rampart back down to the courtyard. Nachin waited for her across the way.
###
Pim was surprised by Drith’s fear of Mort A’ghas. He didn’t think the man was afraid of anything.
They sat on the rear slopes of the Graywing Mountains. Pim saw vast rivers and trees leading to thicker jungles and a misty horizon. The sun was setting, and they planned to camp at the bottom of the mountains and start a fire. The journey would resume in the morning.
The group sipped some water and packed the horses, and started the descent out of the mountains.
In the midst of their travel, Panno and Jodan stopped. Shannara sensed them, and turned. “What is it? What do you see?”
“The Neshing have reached Gonnish,” Panno said.
“Gonnish?” Pim froze. He ran to Shannara’s side. “Mother and Father—they won’t stand a chance. All of our army is in Cardoon!” His heart raced, his arms ran with sweat. He felt his eyes tingle.
“Pim, calm down,” Tolan called, approaching from behind.
“No, I have to go to them. They need me.”
“You won’t reach them in time, my friend. Even with your speed.”
“But they’re counting on me.” Pim poised himself to run.
Tolan grabbed him by the arm. “We need you. Athora needs you.”
Tears stained Pim’s cheeks.
“Have no fear,” Shannara said. “My sisters protect your people, young Wivering. My blood sister, Anelle, leads my army into your lands as we speak.” She turned to her two seers.
The two men bowed and went to Pim, laying their hands on his head. Panno caught his tears as they fell, and a vision formed in front of Pim’s eyes.
Wivering houses burned with green fire. The people screamed and ran, abandoning their fields and farms.
The Neshing marched in on foot, swinging axes and clubs, defending pitchfork and hoe attacks with shields of bone. Their mages hurled yellow-green fireballs through the air. Animals either scattered, or were reduced to ashes. Crops wilted and turned black. Roars and growls carried on blistering winds. The Neshing familiars swatted at fleeing Wivering, and managed to snatch some from their families.
Pim’s mother and father ran from their home with his brother, Tal. The three of them raced into the distance, past their farm. Pim’s mother cradled his baby sister in her arms.
His father looked back; the Neshing closed in. He turned round to see a volley of crossbow quarrels shoot across the skies.
The D’Elkyrie women advanced on the Neshing from both land and air. Their first wave on land fired their crossbows. Neshing warriors fell under the screaming bolts, their familiars scattering back into nothing.
From the air, the second wave of D’Elkyrie used their imitation wings to drop into the beast’s ranks. Dagblades sprung out, and the women slashed their way through their foes.
Neshing and D’Elkyrie clashed in a savage, bloody fight for land and life. The women warriors dropped to the ground and slashed the legs of their foes. As the Neshing tumbled, twin blades cut throats, severed bone totems, and released trapped spirits to the next life. The D’Elkyrie studied their enemies well. Still, the Neshing were strong.
A fireball exploded in the middle of the chaos, reducing D’Elkyrie and Neshing, alike, to ashes. The women fell to the dark magic that scorched a path through Wivering territory.
A familiar slashed Anelle across her face. She stumbled briefly, then gained her footing. She flipped into the air and landed behind her foe. The Neshing’s familiar turned to face her, but she slashed the Neshing’s Achilles tendons with her twin blades. The creature roared and fell, both it and its familiar flailing. Anelle dove onto its back and severed its head from its body with her blades.
Pim’s trembling turned to shaking; it was as if he were coming out of a dream. “Gonnish… it’s nearly gone…”
“But your people are safe,” Shannara said.
“For now.” He walked away from her. “I should have been there.”
“Your place is here,” Tolan said. “You are saving everyone’s people. Your parents would be so proud of you, now. Were it not for you, we would still be sitting outside the stone gates.”
Pim blushed.
“Can we go now, guardian?” Drith asked.
“In such a hurry to see Mort A’ghas?” Tolan asked.
Drith ignored the question as Pim went to Drith and escorted him down the trail. “Your people wouldn’t need rescuing if they knew how to fight.” He said to Pim.
“Is that why you need a guardian?”
“Watch our tongue, boy, or I’ll cut it out. Kings of the South do not travel without escort.”
“And my people are farmers. Wivering create life, they don’t take it.”
“Wonderful. Some guardian you will make.”
Pim said nothing more, controlling the anger inside him for Drith. He knew why he’d lashed out at him: it really wasn’t about his peple—Drith was afraid. Suddenly, the King of the South didn’t seem so intimidating, anymore.
“Those two are going to make the best of friends,” Shannara whispered to Tolan. “I can see it now. Friends for aeons.”
Tolan couldn’t help but laugh.
###
After filling their bellies, the group pitched tents and settled in. Tolan and Shannara sat guard while the others tried to sleep. They made a fire in the center of their circle of tents.
Pim drifted as the smell of the firesmoke wafted past his nostrils. His eyes grew heavy, and sleep took him.
The darkness shifted and brightened. Pim found himself back home, in the fields. With his farmhouse to his back, he looked out over a sea of blue corn and smiled. He actually smelled his mother’s cooking: it was corn pudding, he just knew it.
He turned to head back to the house, and found the roof on fire. He screamed, but no sound came out of him. His feet wouldn’t cooperate as he tried to run. Pim stood, helpless, screaming silently as the roof collapsed. When he looked over his shoulder, the entire farmland was on fire, the corn wilting under the intense heat.
The front door of his home burst open, and his family rushed from the crumbling structure. Behind them, Neshing appeared, swinging axes.
Pim watched, horrified, as the beasts tore into his mother and father, chopped his younger brother into pieces, and devoured their flesh.
His screams went unheard, his feet refused to move; he raged at the nightmarish scene.
The image melted a
way, and Pim suddenly found himself on the battlefield. Chaos and carnage reined all around him. The sky filled with magic and arrows, boulders sailed past him, fire scorched the ground.
He found himself dressed in battle armor, and holding a short sword. As he looked up, a Neshing rider with its huge lizard steed was suddenly bearing down on him.
Pim swung his sword in blind defense, and the rider went right through him. He tried to dash off after it, use his fleet to take the creature down, but again, his feet were rooted to the spot. He watched soldiers falling around him, warriors being tossed from horses, men getting blasted to ashes, and wagons flipping over with ferocity. He was helpless, forced to watch the united forces of Athora crushed under the unworldly power of the Neshing.
A cry of agony caught Pim’s attention, and he turned to come face to face with Ono. Ono opened his mouth, and blood seeped out of it. “Pim,” he gargled. “How could you do this to me?” Ono’s body was riddled with wounds and gouges; his flesh hung in ribbons, and one of his eyes were missing. “I trusted you. You were my friend. I wouldn’t have come if it weren’t for you. I’d still be home… safe… with my family.”
Pim tried to respond, but no sound would come. He wanted to say how sorry he was. He wanted to say that he wished it was him out there on the battlefield being picked apart by the enemy, but not a single word could form in his mouth. At last, Pim reached his arm out, and Ono stepped away, fading into the cloud of war.
Pim opened his eyes and found himself in his tent. His arms were reaching into the air, and his body was bathed in sweat. He sat up and wiped the tears from his cheeks.
What am I doing here? I am not a warrior or an adventurer. I’m just a boy, like my parents said. What difference do I make? I’m only in the way. I’m a hindrance.
He heard whispering outside his tent. The glow of the fire licked at his doorway. Peeking outside, he saw Tolan and Shannara sitting next to each other near the fire.
“Just how strong are you?” Tolan asked Shannara.
“Stronger than you can imagine. I’ve fought rock elementals with my bare hands in the peaks of the M’Illium Fells. I’ve survived a battle with Black Worms.”