by Aaron Gansky
Shadows scurried over the stone ceiling and leapt on Belphegor. He roared, threw them off, and smashed their skulls. Inexorable waves of nar’esh swarmed him, crawled over him like maggots on a corpse. He stabbed at them with his shattered stave, but for every nar’esh he killed, two more took its place.
Belphegor howled and spun around. Sores opened all over his hairy carcass.
The smell of the nar’esh, of the wounds opening on Belphegor made the already sour air even more rank. Oliver tried not to be sick. He closed his eyes and hoped the nar’esh wouldn’t trample him, hoped Belphegor would fall to the beasts. But if he did, what then? Would they turn their attention to Oliver and his friends? Had Erica truly mastered their language?
* * *
Lauren didn’t like the nar’esh, especially this many this close. They ran between her and Ullwen, up and down walls, over the ceiling. They crawled over each other like cockroaches. She fought hard not to throw up.
The tide of nar’esh at once relieved her and terrified her. If the nar’esh killed Belphegor, wouldn’t they turn on her and the others? No matter who won, Belphegor or the nar’esh, they’d have a massive battle on their hands. Best to conserve her strength.
Belphegor dropped to his knees as lithe, black, spidery limbs crept over him. Aiden sneered, kept his sword unsheathed, waiting for the nar’esh to clear so he could unmake Belphegor.
The beast struggled to his feet again. With massive, ground-shaking steps, he moved toward the throne. He used the stones to smash the nar’esh, to throw them into the walls. He tore their limbs, used them as weapons. Hundreds of nar’esh died in minutes.
Lauren had never seen so much blood. The stench of rotten grapefruits nauseated her, and she held her stomach tight. “He’s going to kill them all,” she said, electricity already crackling between her fingertips.
Heaps of dead nar’esh piled over the floor.
“We should do something,” Aiden said.
Erica’s tongue clicked and clacked.
Sparky sat beside her, haunches tightened, ready to spring.
Ullwen had an arrow on his string. He didn’t wait. He stepped over a nar’esh to steady his shot and let the string free. The arrow pierced the snout of Belphegor.
Deftly avoiding the few nar’esh still standing, Aiden charged Belphegor and sank the flaming sword into his leg.
Belphegor screamed and dropped to a knee. He lunged forward, gripped the skull of his stave. The sockets flashed red, and the nar’esh rushed toward the ceilings with frightening ferocity. Their thin limbs cracked on the stone, and their lifeless bodies collapsed to the ground below. He turned his head toward Lauren.
She lifted. The ceiling rushed toward her. She screeched.
Aiden stabbed Belphegor’s other leg, smashed the skull from the beast’s hand with his shield.
Sparky howled and nipped at Belphegor’s knees.
Lauren, now plummeting to the earth, sent a surge of electricity at Belphegor. At the same time, she heated the earth beneath her. The drastic temperature change created a current of wind. Not much, but enough to cushion her fall.
“Leverage!” Oliver shouted. “Rognak staff!”
Lauren changed her tactic. Instead of using fire, she let her blood run cold, her fingertips numb. She crafted ice from air, a thick block on each of Belphegor’s feet. She did the same with his hands, so he knelt before them.
The beast howled, wrenched his hands free from the ice blocks. Shards of ice shattered like glass. Aiden moved in front of Lauren, used his shield to absorb the magic-imbued ice crystals.
Erica and Sparky leapt on Belphegor’s back. He twisted under their weight. Sparky latched on with his piercing teeth. Erica smashed a rock into the back of his skull. “Just quit your whining and kneel, you stupid ox!”
Ullwen rolled toward Oliver and snatched up the rognak staff. “Leverage,” he said with a grin. He leapt up and jammed the staff between Belphegor’s horns and pulled down, twisted Belphegor’s head.
Lauren worked faster, thickening the bonds of ice around Belphegor’s hands and feet.
He roared and tried to twist his head, but physics gave Ullwen an advantage. Still, Belphegor’s twisting neck threatened to throw Ullwen from his feet. He pulled down hard, pushing against the might of Belphegor.
Aiden ran next to Ullwen and pulled down with all his strength. Erica and Lauren followed close after, adding their physical strength to the torque.
Sparky bounded over and nipped at Belphegor.
The ice holding the beast’s hands and feet began to crack. Lauren leapt back and thickened the bonds. But the new ice cracked as quickly as it formed. “Move fast, guys.”
Ullwen, Aiden, and Erica pushed and pulled until Belphegor’s head twisted and his neck snapped.
Belphegor twitched against his ice bonds, then dropped his limp neck.
Unconvinced, Aiden ran the blade of his sword along the beast’s neck. A tide of crimson blood splashed out, flooded the bodies of the nar’esh.
Near the ceiling of the cave, a thick black cloud coagulated like an undulating mass of flies on rotting meat.
“You feel that?” Aiden asked.
“Electricity,” Lauren said.
“So,” Erica said, stepping back from the abomination. “The creepy mystery cloud creeping anyone else out?”
Red sparks flashed, and with a mighty clap, a thick bolt of red lightning flashed down and consumed the massive, hairy Minotaur.
The group scattered back, scrambled for cover, but as quickly as it appeared, the cloud and the lightning vanished, and took with them the body of Belphegor.
Panting, Erica scanned the cave, looking for any other signs of strangeness. When everyone settled down, Erica turned up her lips and said, “At least it took the stink with it.”
* * *
Bailey Renee hurt so bad for Erica, she couldn’t sleep. She worried about Lauren, about Aiden and Oliver, too. But Erica made her heart ache. When she found Lauren and the others, and she would, three of the four would have good homes to go back to. What would Erica have?
She didn’t know Erica, but she didn’t know Sarah Skeleton until today either. She’d judged Sarah, and she could easily judge Erica. She could call her a criminal and blame her for the disappearances, but it didn’t feel right.
So instead, she tried something she’d never done before, something she’d seen Oliver do, but had never done herself. She prayed.
Oliver had explained prayer to Lauren enough, so Bailey knew the basics, but she wondered if she would do it right. She prayed silently for Lauren and Aiden and Oliver and Erica. She prayed for their safety and their quick return.
Nerves and unease still squeezed her heart. So, to calm down, she sipped her hot tea with honey and milk, and grabbed the leather-bound book, the one she’d found under Lauren’s pillow. The Book of Things to Come.
She turned to the page she’d left off in English class, but had trouble finding her spot. Of course, she had marked the page with a bookmark, but it must have been moved.
Strange words like nar’esh and abomination still filled the pages, but the story around them changed. Something about a staff and horns, and killing some sort of Minotaur. Definitely not there in English class.
She flipped back through the pages trying to find her place, but had no success. Wherever she left off in English had simply vanished. Her stomach knotted up.
She flipped to the front of the book where Lauren had made several notes.
Indigo: Me. Daughter of King Ribillius, Princess of Alrujah, Mage
Vicmorn: Oliver. Mystic Martial Arts Monk, Father of the Cerulean Order
Lakia: Erica. Summoner, raised as an orphan in the castle.
Jaurru: Aiden. Valiant Knight and King Ribillius’s personal guard.
Bailey Renee shook her head. The four missing teens and sketches that looked just like them. So they were connected.
By the game.
What if Oliver’s super-confusi
ng code had something to do with their disappearance?
No. It’d be easier to believe they all joined the witness protection program or some other nonsense. But the connection was undeniable.
Without doubt, if she wanted to know what happened to the four teens, she’d have to figure out Lauren’s game. It might have some answers.
It might have the answer.
She slipped the book under the pillow, pulled the covers up, and went to sleep in Lauren’s bed.
* * *
Lauren knelt next to Oliver. Hot tears burned her eyes, and her body ached. She put her hand on his cheek and tried not to cry. “Are you okay?”
Lying still, he whispered, “Never better.”
“Can you move, good Vicmorn?” Ullwen asked.
“I don’t think so.”
Erica knelt on the other side of him. “What if I promised to kiss you if you sat up?”
Oliver smiled but still didn’t budge.
“Seriously, bro, that thing hit you so hard I thought you’d be dead. I’m amazed you’re still breathing.”
Oliver’s chest rose and fell slowly, each accompanied by an anguished rasp of breath, like he’d just had the wind knocked out of him.
“Can’t you heal yourself?” Erica asked. The sarcasm in her voice had dropped and, for the first time, she sounded vulnerable.
“I can’t really move at all,” he said.
“We’ve got to get him out of here,” Aiden said. “Maybe the monks can help him.”
“We must find the book first,” Ullwen countered.
“Behind the throne,” Oliver rasped. “I saw something back there before he smashed it up. A table with a book on it.”
Erica took Oliver’s hand in hers. “Hang on, Oliver.”
Aiden rushed to the throne. He began heaving chunks of rubble to the side, hurling them to the back wall or behind him. “Bro, you weren’t kidding,” he said. “Good news is it’s intact. Bad news is it’s still in its case. If the glass didn’t break when this throne did, it must be made out of something wicked strong.”
“Enchantment,” Oliver murmured.
“So how do we open it?”
“Use my staff,” he whispered to Lauren. “The rognak staff. It’s blessed by Adonai. If this is Adonai’s will, He’ll allow my staff to shatter the glass.”
Erica stroked his cheek with her thumb. “Hang on, Mr. Monk. I’ll take care of it.” She grabbed his staff and leapt up the stairs and over the rubble of the throne, then smashed the staff down on the glass casing.
It shattered.
Aiden lifted the green book high in the air. Gold lines ran up and down the binding. On the cover, in the Ancient Language, were the words The Book of Things to Come.
Lauren smiled. “We did it,” she said to Oliver, but sorrow tainted the words. The stone floor chilled her knees through her dress.
“Not done,” Oliver whispered. “Crush the skull.”
Aiden smashed it under the butt of the rognak staff.
Lauren put a hand on Oliver’s chest. “Now how do we get you out of here?”
Aiden came over, book in his hands. “Can you make any sense out of this?” he asked Lauren.
She took the heavy book from him, felt the power of the pages in her bones. Holding the book must have replenished her magic reserves. No wonder the Mage Lord wanted it. But why had he left it to them? Why hadn’t he stayed to fight?
The Ancient Language was different than dwarvish, but the words on the pages flitted, like those on the stick. When they settled down, she read from the middle of the book. “Now that’s interesting,” she said.
“What?” Erica prompted.
“I know how we’re going to get Oliver out of here.”
“Well spill, girlie.”
She closed the book and said, “We’ll carry him back to the central chamber. Since Erica can speak nar’esh now—and by the way, awesome trick.”
“Thank you,” Erica said.
“Anyway, since you speak nar’esh, it shouldn’t be tough to get back. We’ll have Erica call a razorbeak when we get back, to deliver a message to Eljah and Dillard. They should be able to make it to the caves quickly, and they should be able to heal Oliver, for the most part.”
Aiden said, “Not to be a jerk or anything, but how are we going to carry him without hurting him more? Sounds like his back and ribs may be broken.”
Lauren smiled and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Backboard.”
She channeled her fear into a tangible cold. Moving away from Oliver, she stood up, bent over, and drew the moisture in the room to her fingertips. Ice crystals formed in her fingerprints, bound together until they were thick and cold. Inch by inch, the ice grew thicker and longer until a board formed next to Oliver.
“Amazing,” Aiden said.
She smiled but kept working, kept concentrating on forming something comfortable and supportive. They had to get him to safety. They had to get him better.
The road ahead would be long. The Book of Things to Come made that point clear. And they would need Oliver every step of the way.
END
Look for the second book in the Hand of Adonai series, The Blood Sword, coming soon.