First Comes The One Who Wanders

by Lynette S. Jones

  A few miles to the west were the ruins of the original site of the city. Mostly just foundations and partial walls stood as a reminder. A large natural gorge separated the old city from the new site. That natural protection was why the city had been moved.

  Joshuas initially rejected the ruins to the west and made his way surreptitiously toward the foothills. But the more he thought about the ruins, the more they appealed to him as a location for an escape tunnel. They were part of the original city. The west was less intensely patrolled because of the natural protection. Although there wasn’t much cover to hide escapees, they could escape by night and the ruins would offer them enough cover during the day or they could wait in the tunnel. Searchers wouldn’t start their search on this side of Dirth because there were no major cities in that direction to offer them protection, only seaports and the sea.

  Convinced that the old city was where the tunnel emerged, Joshuas moved as close as he could during the daylight hours. When darkness fell, he made his way to the gorge. The way was difficult, but not impossible. He’d made it down the ravine and across the stream flowing at the bottom by the time the sun began to rise. Covering himself with the underbrush, he rested. There were no cries during the day of detection. Life seemed to go on normally for the soldiers camped around Dirth.

  He was on the move again when darkness fell. Taking some time to look for vegetables and berries he could eat, he began climbing out of the ravine. He made the walls of the ruins in a few hours. Unlike the night before, there seemed to be a buzz of activity around Dirth. Sneaking to a foundation on his stomach, Joshuas tried to discover what was happening, but he was too far away. From where he was laying, it appeared they were searching the camp. He shuddered, if he’d decided to stay a night or two longer, he would most likely be dead or in a torture chamber now. Were they looking for him? Had they somehow discovered he was near Dirth? Had Jayram found him again in the mists and this time decided to hunt him down?

  Joshuas crawled back to his wall. So far, he’d been lucky when it came to the dark crafters. He’d been able to avoid them and thereby avoid being detected. Jayram was unusual. Not many crafters could use the mists to find people. Joshuas knew of less than a handful. Settling himself against the wall, Joshuas began to picture the roads near Menas. He spent the rest of the night walking those roads in his mind.

  In the early morning hours, just before dawn, Joshuas heard the shouts to the gatekeepers and looked out toward Dirth. He saw a squad of men and crafters ride out of the city and head in the direction of the mountains, toward Menas. He smiled, as he watched the men ride through the camp. When they’d disappeared from sight, he began to search the ruins.

  After carefully scrutinizing the remaining floor of the old castle, he expanded his search then expanded it again. He’d expected the opening to be well hidden, but not impossible to find. Moving back to the wall, he was about to admit he’d been mistaken about the tunnel ending here. He was tempted to use his magic, but only for a moment. The light magic would shine like a beacon in this place where dark magic was the only magic being used.

  He scowled in frustration as he thought about the time he’d wasted, time that Duke Donnegal didn’t have. Kicking each of the foundation stones as he passed by it, Joshuas walked along the wall watching the troops camped across the ravine as he started back to where he’d left his pack. He fell halfway down the stairway as the trap sprung when he kicked the correct stone. He’d tried pushing on the stone earlier. Obviously, it took more force to get it to move. It appeared this tunnel hadn’t been used in some time.

  Climbing back out of the opening, Joshuas made sure it wouldn’t close on him and went to gather his belongings. Then with one last glance at the evil surrounding Dirth, he descended into the darkness. Feeling the wall at the bottom of the stair, he found a torch and lit it. It was a long hike back to Dirth, underneath the gorge and field.

  After having witnessed the crafters creating the tunnel in Kyris, Joshuas could tell these tunnels had been created in the same fashion. Some of the passages below Dirth were well known and some like this one had slipped from people’s memory. No one was exactly sure why the tunnels had been created, or how the catacombs then became the haunting ground of souls who had lost their way.

  Joshuas didn’t know how long he’d walked before he stopped to rest. The tunnel was relatively straight and flat, but he’d spent the last two days searching and keeping watch and his lack of food and rest was beginning to catch up with him. He’d eaten the last of the berries he’d found before he entered the tunnel. He would have to find some edible food before he entered the Echoes. There were humans living in Dirthstone Manor. Chances were he could find some food in the kitchen, if he didn’t get caught. Relatively certain no one would be using this passage Joshuas stretched out along the wall and slept.

  Relighting the torch when he awoke, Joshuas took a long drink from his water skin to try and quell the rumbling in his stomach and then continued on his way. He made good time in the passageway and soon was at the same crossroads where he’d stood before with Leilas, Brenth and Daina. The stables were to his left as well as the Echoes. He wondered if he would be lucky enough to find food there again. Deciding it was safer to try the stables than trying to reach the kitchen, he cautiously moved through the corridor, up the steps and through the door. It seemed no one was patrolling the passages underneath Dirth. Joshuas wondered if any of the dark soldiers or crafters stationed here knew about them. It could be quite an advantage to the Jovanulum if they could use them without detection.

  Stepping into the stables, he quickly ransacked the shelves for food. He found hard tack, jerked beef and beer. Stuffing a piece of the beef in his mouth, he found a saddlebag and filled it with the food. Then he stepped back into the tunnel, closing the door behind him. Retracing his steps, he stopped when he came to the opening that led to the Echoes. Then hoping he had what it took to make it through, he squared his shoulders and plunged ahead.

  CHAPTER 29

  The passage began to narrow and slope down into the catacombs beneath the manor. Joshuas chewed on a piece of hard tack and some jerked beef as he walked. It had been many years since he’d been in the Echoes, but he knew he would find a set of broken steps that led even deeper into the ground. Finding the stairs, he descended into the first room of the Echoes. The chamber was manmade with high vaulted ceilings. Every noise was picked up, magnified and sent bouncing off the walls.

  According to Greyan, this was the grand hall. Hallway to what had been Joshuas’ response. He’d found out soon enough. The grand hall led into a series of chambers and hallways that led in four directions. When he and Greyan entered into the Echoes, they’d picked the hallway to the east. Eventually, it had emerged in the forest of the Drakmoth Mountains, almost halfway to Menas.

  Most of the traveling and exploring that was done in the Echoes was done in the eastern hall. Only Leilas had been in the section he was supposed to explore. Cephom had said something to that effect. So, which of the three remaining halls had she wandered? Or had she wandered them all before she was able to escape?

  The north hall would most likely emerge in the forest between Dirth and Andresia. The south hallway, he couldn’t decide where it might end. The west, of course, would parallel the course he’d just traveled to get here. Deciding the south passage would be the one the fewest people traveled, he decided to go in that direction.

  Moving through the grand hall, he came to the next chamber. This room was similar to the first. In fact, all the rooms in the Echoes were basically the same. Some of the decorations changed and the pictures carved in the stones changed, but the basic shape and construction remained the same.

  Joshuas had never had the opportunity to decipher the stories told by the murals and he didn’t have the time to stop and read them now. He wondered if Leilas had taken the time to rediscover the original purpose of this doomed place. The Echoes seemed to be a gathering place for lost spirits. Joshua
s wasn’t sure why these poor souls ended up bound to this world instead of crossing over. But they inhabited these chambers wailing and moaning and trying to enter the minds of those who entered. They reached out and touched with cold, deathly tendrils. They surrounded the person and wouldn’t leave them in peace until they left the Echoes, if they hadn’t been driven mad by the experience.

  Several of the young crafters had gone crazy after having been exposed to the thoughts of the lost. That was the reason the school had set the Echoes off limits to their students. No one had business in the Echoes, unless it was to escape Dirth undetected. Joshuas had never heard there were dark creatures in these catacombs, thought it wouldn’t surprise him to find they’d discovered the place and chosen to occupy it. Still, Cephom made it sound as if they were guards, placed by Rengailai, to watch over his prisoners.

  Joshuas shook his head. It didn’t even sound as if they were talking about the same place. Yet, here he was, trekking through the graveyard of lost souls, looking for ghouls. The wailing of the spirits had grown louder when he stepped into the second chamber. There was no way to block out the sound. Many had tried to shut out the cries of the lost as they traveled through this place, but the sound seemed to emanate from the minds of the lost into the minds of the travelers.

  “Can’t you hear them?” Leilas had asked him in the Forest of Furlin. Was this what she’d been hearing? What had she done to endure it? He tried to remember if she’d done anything? Events then, moved too quickly for him to recognize if she’d done something special. She’d spoken some sort of spell when Erion had succumbed to whatever it was they were hearing. Erion hadn’t heard it all through the forest. If she was that sensitive, why didn’t she go mad in the Echoes? Once again, no faith in the one you profess to love, Joshuas taunted himself. He was going to have to stop thinking of her as a child who needed his protection and start thinking of her as a talented and gifted crafter.

  Erion had said Leilas’ ability to hear lost souls was a gift. Why was that, he wondered? The only place he heard lost souls was here and it didn’t seem like much of a gift to have this cacophony in his head. Joshuas moved through the southern hall slowly, looking for something. He’d gone through several of the chambers, trying to investigate, while trying to keep the lost souls out of his head. It was a losing battle. He entered the tenth chamber before he found any difference in the rooms. On the right wall, he saw a door. It had been well concealed in the wall. It didn’t open to his touch or his command to open. He ran his fingers along the mantle and the frame, looking for any springs. Still, the door didn’t open.

  Sitting on the floor, he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. Mostly, he found himself concentrating on the noise in his mind. Sometimes, when he wasn’t fighting against the noise, it almost went from mindless wailing to something else. Something he couldn’t quite identify.

  The door, he reminded himself. He’d tried spells, looked for springs, pushed, pounded, what else could he try? Or should he try? Maybe this wasn’t the door he wanted. Perhaps he should continue on and see if there were other doors. He would end up having to open them all and follow where they led, in all likelihood, he argued with himself.

  “How do I get the door open?” Joshuas asked aloud.

  “Read the murals.” The words seemed to hover in his mind, then disappear. He looked around quickly, scrambling to his feet and drawing his sword. He’d been sure someone had spoken, but he couldn’t see anyone. Feeling foolish, he replaced his sword in its sheath. Glancing around again, he stepped to the carvings and began to interpret the pictures. Each carving told about a crafter, some light, and some dark. The carvings didn’t seem to relate to the Echoes at all. They didn’t tell how they were built, or who built them. They were only stories of crafters who’d died. None of the pictures explained how to open the door.

  “Okay, so now I’m hearing voices and listening to them,” he said to himself. “What next?” He lingered over a portrait of a beautiful woman crafter, perched atop a flying horse, an arrow piercing her breast. For a moment, the noise in his head became more organized and the name Ariel drifted into his head.

  “Is that your name?” he spoke to the picture. “You are a lioness. What is your picture doing in this forsaken place?” He looked at the mural intently. The arrow piercing her chest caught his eye. It was unique. A design he’d never seen before. He wondered why the artist chose to portray it in such an odd manner.

  “Why are you here?” he asked the picture. He continued to study the mural, for some reason captivated by the woman’s beauty. Then his eyes went back to the arrow depicted in the panel. He moved quickly to the other murals in the room, but the crafters shown in those murals didn’t have arrows piercing them. Walking into the next chamber and the next, he looked for another door. When he found it, he checked the panels in the room. There, by the door, was a picture of a man pierced with an arrow. Ten fallen heroes replaced by ten demon-men. The fallen heroes held the key to defeating the master gaunts. Rengailai did have a sense of irony.

  Joshuas rubbed his head, which was pounding from the constant noise inside it. He could see how people lost their way in this place. The sadness constantly barraged your brain. The hopelessness ate away at you. Fear, that you might end up like the souls locked inside these chambers, the fear that maybe this was all that was in store for a person when he died.

  Again, Joshuas found himself wondering why these spirits were here. There was a reason, and it probably wasn’t a happy story, he decided. Were these souls, who were people once, deserving of the fate that had befallen them? Or were they in need of a champion to rescue them as Preterlandis was in need of its champion?

  He squared his shoulders. The thought of a champion had brought Brenth to mind. While he was here, doing Cephom’s bidding, the champion Leilas had named was fighting a losing battle alone. It was a heavy burden for such a young man, alone. Joshuas smiled to himself. There he was, judging these worthy people not on merit, but simply by their age. Obviously, Jovan thought them capable, despite their youth.

  Walking back to Ariel’s chamber, as he called it, Joshuas opened the saddlebag and found some food and a bottle of beer. Leaning against the wall, he chewed the tasteless bread and washed it down with cheap beer. He felt a ripple in the sadness, as if those inside his head were remembering the simple pleasure of eating.

  Sadness washed over him and he considered having another beer. It would be easy to sit here and get lost in the memories and the sadness being here had evoked. But he’d spent too long in that pursuit. He told himself he wasn’t going to indulge in that brand of forgetfulness anymore when he’d started for Dirth to warn the school of Jayram’s attack. Closing the saddlebag with a twinge of regret, he went back to the puzzle of the door.

  “So, Ariel,” he said, after another unsuccessful attempt to open the door. “What’s the secret to your door?”

  He heard a click when he spoke the crafter’s name. Pushing on the door, it swung open easily. Joshuas grimaced as he collected his belongings and stepped through the door. All he had to do was find the names of all the fallen crafters and survive collecting their gift to the forces of light. It was as simple as that. He found himself in a short hallway that opened into a smaller chamber. He walked to the end of the hallway and found himself facing a brick wall with a small opening, face high. Looking through the opening, Joshuas saw the woman in the relief, lying unconscious on a stone table. A black arrow, with strange carvings covering the shaft, protruded from her chest. Joshuas could see the slight rise and fall of her chest.

  He’d never seen this crafter before and never heard stories about her. Yet, the relief depicted her as a valiant warrior. How long had she lain here in this prison? And how long had Rengailai been planning this war? How foolish were they to believe they could do anything to affect the outcome? The voices grew louder, more insistent in his head, temporarily distracting him from his musings. Sorrow and futility washed over him and almost rende
red him incapable of movement. Struggling against the urge to give into the feelings, Joshuas raised his sword in defiance. His focus became less clouded at the gesture. Renewing his resolve and keeping his task in his mind, he began tearing down the wall between himself and the fallen warrior.

  Somehow, the balance would be restored and goodness and light would return to Preterlandis. He kept repeating those words as he worked. Keeping an eye out for the creatures that were supposed to be guarding Ariel, he stepped over the lowered wall and stood beside her.

  “Save as many as you can.” Joshuas frowned as he remembered Cephom’s words. Pulling the arrow from her chest wasn’t going to save this woman and he was no healer. The reality that he might end up killing some of these people by removing the arrow from their chest hit him as he stood mesmerized by this woman’s beauty. Killing her was not an option he’d even consider. But how did he get ten unconscious crafters out of the Echoes? And once he did, what did he do with them?

  Fumbling in his herb bag, he found some willowwick then he grabbed the arrow and pulled. Quickly, he put the willowwick on the wound. He would have sworn he heard the woman moan, but he knew that was impossible. Placing the arrow in his quiver, he picked up the woman and threw her over his shoulder. He wasn’t sure where the ghouls were, but he was fairly certain he’d meet them soon enough. By the time he reached the main chamber, he had a plan.

  The voices in his head had increased their wailing when he pulled the arrow from Ariel’s chest. He ground his teeth in frustration. They were about to drive him to distraction. Yet, there was something about them. If he had more time he might be able to understand it. Shaking his head to try to clear his thoughts, he started through the chambers. He stopped wherever there was a door and studied the relief. At the fifth door, he found what he was hoping to discover. The relief depicted a healer, the arrow protruding from his chest.