After he finished studying, he was about to put out his staff when he remembered the page from the Book of Prophesy. Since he was memorizing things, he might as well memorize the page in case it should become lost. He pulled it out and began memorizing. When he was sure he knew it by heart, he folded it and put it back into his pocket. He was about to cancel the light spell when the staff’s orb began to undulate. Examining it more closely, he was able to make something out in its shifting colours.
First, he saw a white cloak, followed by an abandoned graveyard. Skeletons rose and moved forward carrying rusty weapons. A beautiful queen dressed in colourful clothing smiled as she watched the undead legions. Then she looked directly at Kazin and frowned. Kazin shuddered as he looked into her dead eyes. In a flash she was gone, replaced by the mermaid fountain in the square on Sorcerer’s Isle. The fountain moved and the mermaid sprang into its depths, disappearing from view. Several weapons flickered in and out of view. First a shiny silver sword, followed by a lethal, steaming axe, followed by a flying dagger, and finally, an arrow of elven make. These images wavered and vanished, leaving a light luminescent glow on Kazin’s orb.
Kazin cancelled the light spell on his staff and thought about the images he had seen. They seemed unusually vivid, as though they were real. Yet they were not. There was also a sense of urgency about them, as if they were really important. Kazin could only guess as to the meaning of most of the images, but one thing seemed evident. The weapons at the end related to the page of the Book of Prophesy that he had in his pocket. If just he had more pages of the Book of Prophesy handy! He was sure it would help explain the images.
Suddenly the orb began to glow again of its own accord. Surprised, Kazin looked into it and saw an image of a book. It was the Book of Prophesy! It was opening! Several pages flitted by and it stopped on one page. Kazin read as quickly as he could. It read:
‘The dragons clashed, but the son struck true.
The old dragon was blinded, and then he knew.’
The pages flipped again and Kazin cursed. He couldn’t read that fast! The pages stopped again and Kazin read quickly:
‘In urgent haste the heroes fled,
To slay evil in the field of dead.
The ghoul was slain, the sword was found
Inside its tomb below the ground.’
The pages flipped again:
‘The horn must hone its skill to fight
To honourably gain the right
to suppress the evil with strength and skill
And be victorious with a kill.’
The pages flipped again:
‘The key to the present is in the past
Or the way of the future will never last!’
The pages flipped again and the book slammed shut. The orb dimmed and went out. This was followed by an eerie laughter that echoed in Kazin’s head. Kazin’s stomach began to burn fiercely, almost bad enough for him to cry out. He quickly drank from his wineskin to douse the fierce fire that raged inside. This eased the pain somewhat. The voice laughed again and then vanished. Only the dull pain remained, making the young mage uneasy.
Kazin wondered if he was going insane, but the images were real. The pain inside could not be ignored. He settled down for the rest of his shift, going over the images in his mind and repeating the pages of the Book of Prophesy he was fortunate enough to see. He would have written them down but didn’t want to wake Harran just to ask to borrow some of his parchment.
Chapter 27
Before long, the sky began to lighten and Kazin woke his partners to prepare for their trek into the mountain. They had all their gear ready when there was the loud crack of a twig not far away.
“Wait for my spell,” Kazin whispered as they stealthily dodged for cover and waited to see who was coming their way.
After a minute or two a group of lizardmen came upon their campsite. They moved forward cautiously, prodding the still smouldering campfire with sticks and staves.
Kazin chanted and cast a sleep spell in the lizardmen’s general direction. Unfortunately, lizardmen are partially immune to most magic so only the three located in the middle of their group fell to the ground in slumber. That left three on either side of the campsite.
Sherman dashed out of cover to attack the three closest to Kazin while Harran took on the rest.
Sherman’s rush caught them off guard as he easily dispatched the first, parried a slash by the second, and stabbed the third in the heart in the next move.
Harran, meanwhile, got into trouble as his three lizardmen quickly surrounded him. He feinted toward one, causing it to back up, startled. Then he spun to strike at a second, slicing into its arm. It screamed loudly while the third lizardman advanced from behind, prepared to run him through with a dagger.
Suddenly, a brown, hideous beast bellowed as it charged out of nowhere to pounce on the third lizardman. The lizardman only had time to shriek once before its scaly hide was rent by the beast’s bare hands and flung several yards to either side of the clearing. The remains of that lizard barely flopped to the ground before the beast assaulted the dwarf’s first lizardman. The creature only gaped at the impending doom and did not make a sound as a hairy fist shattered its skull with a powerful blow.
Sherman, after cleanly slicing off the head of his last victim, turned in time to see the beast looking at the dwarf. He sprang to the dwarf’s aid but stumbled on a sleeping lizardman near the campfire, falling on top of it with a crash. His sword went flying.
Harran, taking advantage of the confusion, took a mighty swing at his last lizardman, slicing it in two. He turned to the beast, smiling, but the smile instantly vanished as he shrieked, “Stop!”
The beast whirled to face the direction of the dwarf’s gaze, but Sherman was already in motion, charging like a crazed bull. The two titans clashed, bouncing off each other and crashing to the ground. The beast jumped back up, its fists clenched. Sherman merely sat up with a dazed expression.
Kazin stood nearby, prepared to end the life of the beast with a lightning bolt spell, but he waited for Harran to make the next move.
The dwarf sheathed his axe and walked bravely up to the beast, extending his hand. “It’s good to see you again, my friend,” he said.
The beast shook his hand. “Likewise, friend.”
Harran turned the beast to face Kazin. “This is the friend I spoke to you about, Kazin. This is Zylor.”
The minotaur grinned a toothy grin.
Kazin gazed at the enormous horns on the minotaur’s head, which were, ironically, outlining the rising sun directly behind him. “The head of horns,” he whispered.
Sherman merely sat on the ground and gaped. He had just attempted to attack the biggest minotaur with the largest horns he had ever seen—with his bare hands—only to find it was a friend of the friend he was defending in the first place! His head swam.
Zylor and Harran quickly dispatched the sleeping lizardmen while Sherman retrieved his sword. He was still in a daze. Until now he never really believed Harran’s story about the minotaur.
Zylor was leery of Kazin at first but Harran eased his concern with details about their previous adventures where Kazin intervened on the dwarf’s behalf and vice-versa. Harran assured him that Kazin was honourable.
“What of the warrior?” asked Zylor, appreciatively eyeing Sherman up and down. “He tried to intervene on your behalf as well, and with his bare hands! Not even ogres can knock me off my feet, but this human has done so with little difficulty. He would be a prized fighter in the arenas!”
“He has demonstrated his honour several times as well,” said Harran. “Do not underestimate his honour or his strength.”
Zylor nodded and grinned at the warrior. “That goes without saying!”
Sherman grinned uncertainly. He had often fought against
strong and versatile opponents, but he hoped he would never have to fight one this big. For a human, he was large. Compared to a minotaur, especially this one, he was a couple of feet too short and barely strong enough to match its strength. He could probably overpower a minotaur of the same height, he thought, but he didn’t exactly want to find out, either.
“Perhaps you should fill us in on how you got here,” said Harran. “Then we’ll tell you about our quest.”
“Very well,” said Zylor. “The maps I was given in the dwarven city were very accurate. My first objective was to reach my first goal which was the plateau. I used a roundabout way to bypass where Harran and I had encountered the dwarven soldiers. I fought my way through goblins and orcs and reached the plateau in five days. At the entrance, I encountered three trolls who wanted payment in exchange for safe passage. I paid them with the sharp end of my axe.”
Harran chuckled.
“The plateau was relatively peaceful at first,” continued Zylor, “and I ate from the abundant vegetation and wildlife for a short time. I was just settling into a routine of tracking ogres when I saw minotaur tracks in the clay ahead of me. I followed them and came upon a group of minotaurs camped along the eastern rim of the plateau.
“They were startled at first, but they accepted me into their midst warily. It wasn’t long before I found out they were former members of my father’s personal guard. When I told them my name, most of them refused to believe it. One of the older ones examined me closely and told the other minotaurs that I had a strong resemblance to my father. They grilled me with questions until I was asked who my mother was. I told them I didn’t remember my mother and that I was brought up by Mylorga. At this an older minotaur confirmed my identity, claiming Mylorga had gone to see his brother, Graftor, the day my parents died, carrying an infant she claimed was my true mother’s. Graftor hid us in his basement until it was deemed safe to let us escape into the mountains. Apparently, the older minotaur was close to Mylorga, and she had gone to see his brother because it was safer that way. She was never seen since, so he figured Graftor had told the truth.”
“What happened then?” asked Sherman. “Were you accepted?”
Zylor nodded. “They accepted me as their leader!”
“Why were they in the mountains?” asked Harran. “And how did they get there?”
“They climbed the mountain to escape the wrath of my uncle. They climbed until they found a crack in the mountain that led to the plateau. They’ve lived there ever since.”
“How did you end up here?” asked Kazin. “You’re a long way from the plateau.”
“After a few weeks of relieving the tunnels of orcs and ogres, I led a group of us to visit the dwarves living on the mountain’s east surface. It just so happened that Horst and his community were under attack by some lizardmen leading a bunch of zombie-goblins. We helped the dwarves prevail by attacking from the rear, and in a joint venture we tracked the remaining lizardmen through the mountain hoping to find their lair.
“When we got close, we followed them to a wide cavern where they did some sort of magic thing and opened a hole in the wall. Fortunately they weren’t aware of us, and when they stepped through, the hole was left open behind them. We could see daylight and parts of a mountainside beyond where there should only have been more rock. After a quick discussion, we decided to follow.
“As we neared the opening, continued Zylor, we noticed the edges of the hole were beginning to waver. Those of us closest to the hole sprinted for it to catch it while it was open. I hit the opening first and sprang through. There was a blinding flash of light and a ringing noise in my ears. I fell through the opening and landed in a bush well below it. The opening had a very small ledge and I missed it. From my new vantage point I could just see the lizardmen rounding an outcropping several hundred yards above me. I could also see I was alone.
“The opening flickered once and then vanished. I was truly on my own. I guess I must have outdistanced the others in the sprint for the opening. My only course of action was to follow the lizardmen and see what I could find out. When I caught up to them, your battle was already in progress. I wouldn’t have intervened if it wasn’t for Harran being in a little trouble.”
“I’m glad you showed up when you did,” said Harran thankfully.
“Why didn’t you use your axe?” asked Sherman, eyeing the minotaur’s axe, which was still sheathed tightly to his back.
“I’ve had lots of practice,” said Zylor. “Lizardmen are easier to kill than orcs—if you can get close to them. Why bloody a weapon if you don’t have to?”
Sherman gulped.
“So the lizardmen have a system of teleportation,” mused Kazin, changing the subject.
“Speaking of teleportation,” said Zylor. “Where am I?”
They quickly filled Zylor in about details of his present whereabouts and the political situation as it stood. When asked if he wanted to join them he accepted their offer, claiming he had no better alternatives. Kazin even offered to see if he could reactivate the opening Zylor came through to send him back to his original location. Zylor agreed to try it later but was more interested in their quest to find the scouting party and the lizardmen they were after. With that settled they entered the tunnel.
Harran entered first, followed by Kazin with his staff lit, followed by Sherman, who chewed his wildhorn leaves nervously. Zylor brought up the rear.
Harran led them unerringly through a series of tunnels, stopping now and then to mark their path on a piece of parchment. It was a wise precaution. If something should happen to the dwarf, Zylor could lead them back out to safety. Kazin could probably manage to read the map as well, should it come to that.
When they passed a wide tunnel entrance to continue down a narrow, rugged path, Sherman asked what the reason for this was. Harran pointed out the dust in the wide tunnel was too thick to have been travelled over recently. He also showed a recent scuff mark in the narrow tunnel they were using. Apparently someone had tripped over a corner of rock that jutted out into the path. Most likely it was one of the humans in the search party.
“Why not lizardmen?” asked Sherman.
“They don’t wear shoes,” said Harran. “Their feet are much more adapted to this kind of terrain.”
“In that case,” said Sherman, “the lizardmen could have turned off at any one of the previous intersections and we wouldn’t know it! That last wide tunnel may have had some dust on it, but I’m sure some of the others were more travel worn.”
“That is very observant,” said Harran, “but the lizardmen and the scouting party are both ahead of us.”
“How do you know?” asked Sherman.
“Just follow your nose,” said Zylor behind him.
“What?!” asked Sherman, turning to face the minotaur.
“Can’t you smell it?” asked Zylor.
“No.”
“Humans don’t have very strong noses, Zylor,” said Harran over his shoulder.
“Then how come the search party, which consists of humans, is on the right track?” inquired Sherman, catching back up with Kazin and his lit staff. “They can’t smell them.”
“The power of magic,” said Kazin. “They have a mage and a cleric, remember?”
“Oh yeah,” said Sherman. “I forgot.”
They moved down a series of passageways for several hours and then called a halt to eat some dried food Kazin had brought from the base camp.
Harran took advantage of the pause to update his map while the others chewed in silence.
“How far have we gone?” asked Kazin.
“We are halfway back to Lizard’s Pass and about 200 feet lower than where we started,” said Harran. “Judging by the tunnels we passed, I’d say that this is one of the few tunnels that lead downward.”
The compa
nions continued in pursuit of the scouting party for a few more hours and then called it a night. Harran took first watch; Zylor took second, followed by Sherman. Kazin put out his staff and checked it for magical energy. He scratched his head and checked it again. According to his test, it was still almost fully charged. He shook his head and put the staff away. He would have to test it later.
The night passed uneventfully and they started off as soon as everyone had risen. They encountered a stream midway through the day and after Kazin checked it for poison, they filled their wineskins. Harran took the opportunity to gather healing mushrooms while Kazin found lichens and other plant life for some new spells he wanted to try.
They moved on and an hour or so later their tunnel opened up into a large cavern. The cavern linked with several passageways and to one side was a large alcove. It was to this that Harran led them.
“Why are we stopping here?” asked Sherman.
Harran scratched his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“What doesn’t make sense?” asked Kazin.
“The scouting party followed the trail of the lizardmen here, and judging by the marks in the sand, the lizardmen kept going.”
“Kept going?” asked Sherman. “Into the wall?”
“That’s right,” said Harran, “and right through it as if it weren’t even there.”
“Let me cast a magic spell,” said Kazin. “Maybe it’s a magical door like the one Zylor was describing.” He held his staff close to the wall and the staff changed from a dull white to a fluorescent orange.
“That’s some spell, Kazin!” remarked Sherman. “I swear I never even saw your lips move!”
Kazin looked surprised as well. “That’s because I didn’t even cast one yet, Sherm.” He cast a spell anyway and the staff glowed so brightly everyone had to avert their eyes. After a moment it dimmed again and they turned to look at the wall. Outlined in the bare rock was an orange outline of a doorway.
Kazin's Quest: Book I of The Dragon Mage Trilogy Page 24