Mandala's Catalyst (Gardone Trilogy)

by Warren R. Henke

  “Trask?” One of them yelled.

  Trask kept walking towards them. “What are you doing down here?” He yelled, filling his voice with anger. They were three of the guards he often traveled with when transporting the banished.

  “Knudson sent us; he needs to talk to you.” Gorath yelled back.

  “I haven’t been to see Marchello yet, I’ll talk to him as soon as I return.”

  He reached them and stopped, as if to talk, but his intent was to stop their progress and block their view. Hopefully the others were down the stairs by now, but he’d buy them as much time as possible.

  “They are going instead,” Gorath motioned to the other two. “You need to come back with me.”

  “Why? What happened?” Trask hid his sudden concern with a demanding tone.

  The guard in the back answered, “No idea, and the truth is, I wish you were going. I hate those caverns.”

  “Knudson’s orders, he wants to see you,” Gorath growled.

  Why did Knudson want him and what should he do? This messed up everything. “I thought I heard Marchello on his way up anyways, I’ll check. He may be on the stairs now,” he said.

  “They can check,” Gorath ordered, motioning to the other two. “You are coming with me.”

  “I’m the ranking officer and I’ll tell you what to do, not the other way around!” he yelled in Gorath’s face. He turned to one of the other guards, speaking lighter. “Find out if Marchello is on his way up.” Then he faced Gorath, glaring fiercely until Gorath looked away. Even then, Trask didn’t break off his bitter stare. He heard the guard behind him run down the hall. “Marchello?” The yell echoed through the hallways.

  “Marchello? Hello? Anyone down there? Hello?”

  The yells echoed until all fell silent. Footsteps sounded as the guard returned.

  “I didn’t hear anything,” the guard said.

  “You two go find him. Gorath and I have some business with Knudson,” Trask said. “Marchello should be on his way back, keep yelling for him as you work your way through. Return the moment you have word.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Both guards headed for the dungeon and Trask walked in the other direction. Gorath followed him.

  * * * “It might be difficult for you to relive a bad experience like this, but you have important information. Would you mind if I help you relax and guide you through a process to remember what happened?”

  Endell shook his head, of course he didn’t mind. He’d been able to tell Horvold of his capture in the fields and Knudson questioning him, but after that everything was too hazy.

  “Good,” said Horvold. “Get comfortable and concentrate on my voice.”

  “Should I lie down?”

  “If you want.”

  Endell rolled back into the furs and skins and stretched out.

  “Now close your eyes,” Horvold said.

  “Is this magic?”

  Some people might say so, but there isn’t anything magic about it. Once you are relaxed, your mind will release the information. You’re just going to tell me what’s already in there, that’s all.”

  Endell nodded and closed his eyes.

  “Concentrate on my voice…”

  Horvold’s deep voice was soothing. He visualized the things Horvold described. He felt peaceful. Within moments, the world faded.

  Endell!

  Hovold was calling him…but it seemed far away. Where was he? And something was drawing him closer. It wanted him. And then he remembered. He’d been here before. He turned away from the light; it was easier this time.

  Endell, Wake up!

  He concentrated on the voice and felt Horvold’s fear and urgency. What was wrong? As soon as he wondered, an image of Horvold leaning over his dead body filled his mind, calling him just as Father had done in the marketplace. Father? At the thought of Father he sensed mountains around him and quickly realized he was in a cavern with four men… no, three men and a woman. Father was with them.

  Father was calling his name and crying, but why?

  What is wrong?

  He sensed pain wrenching Father’s heart…the turmoil of losing a loved one…of losing your only son. Father thought he was dead? With a surge of emotional energy, Endell passed information to Father’s mind. He told him he was alive and well and not to worry.

  The crying continued, but now in joy and relief. Then Father wondered how to get out of the mountain.

  Endell focused on the dirt and rocks and felt with the spirit of the mountain. Tunnels and caverns twisted through the earth like they were his arms and fingers stretching, reaching. He found a locked door. Outside people were waiting…people who would help…the Resistance.

  But before he could show Father, something deep inside the mountain beckoned – a call weaker than the great light, but still a powerful force requesting his attention. He acknowledged the plea and a wave of emotion and ideas flooded his mind. A great relic lay hidden deep in the mountain’s caverns…waiting to be found, wanting for the right people. It pulled him through passages, through small openings, and over boulders to a hidden chamber. He sensed an ancient book filled with secrets, betrayal, agony, and revenge.

  Send your father, take this book.

  The presence vanished and he was with Father again. He passed the information…the location of the secret room and the book. He filled Father with its priceless value and the vital information carried on its pages and then showed him where find it.

  Once the information had passed, he searched again for the force that had contacted him, but instead sensed a shadow, the tip of a dark wisp that stretching through the caverns. Its darkness clouded his thoughts of the book, and curious, he followed the black path: a trail of anger that ended in a pulsing mass of death and destruction. A beast that hated men…he felt the burn of the saliva dripping at the scent it followed. A scent he suddenly recognized and horror filled his essence. Father. It hunted Father….he tumbled in panic through the mountain in a reckless search, where were they? All he could sense was death…the monster. Father? Where were they? He tried to fill his mind with images of home, thoughts that would connect him again to Father but the shadow kept snuffing out his concentration. How would he find them? Then he realized, the monster knew the way.

  Endell plunged into the bitter essence and hostility filled his soul. Memories of pain and darkness flooded his conscious. He felt burning fury fueled by the smell of human flesh dancing on the air. He searched for the source of the anger and had to press for the memories…when they came, he grieved. Images of the Guide flashed like lightning…as the evil man shocked, burned, and tortured the young dragon. Endell felt pain from an experiment gone wrong pulsed through the dragon’s body with each step. Its darkened soul never knew any form of love or compassion and was now void of all but hatred. Relief from the burning came only with killing and revenge…the human scent which it now followed. It was pure evil, all goodness lost to its horrific existence.

  His compassion for the monster released him from the fear that had gripped his mind and he relaxed. Now Father came easily and he connected to him. He conjured a small portion of the evil contained in the monster and passed it to Father to warn him of the danger and instantly Father’s heart raced as fear engulfed him.

  Run, get out now!

  But the other voice returned, pleading…take the book!

  Endell hesitated, the book. Yes, they needed it. Father, stop! Get the book first!

  Father suddenly faded, like an image on water obscured by rainfall. He lost all concentration and felt himself pulled from the mountain. He was being sucked into the light.

  He pushed back, but it didn’t help. Its grip held him, a calm peace began to wash away his thoughts and desires. NO! What could he do? Thoughts slipped like sand through his fingers as he hurled towards the warm and enticing power. He concentrated, searching his memories and found a weak image of Horvold, huddled over a body…his dead body. This is what he needed and
he focused. Horvold breathed air into the mouth and pumped the chest to circulate blood. He pictured his hands, remembered the painful burns on his body, and pushed against the light. He felt pressure on his chest, crushing him and then…an immense desire to…breathe. He gasped. Choking, he sat up wide-eyed, and smacked into Horvold, who had been leaning over him. Horvold fell backwards.

  “My father is in danger!” he said, huffing. “We have to go!”

  “Endell?”

  Horvold looked mortified, tears streaming down his cheeks and the terror in his eyes.

  “I’m alright,” he said just before Horvold embraced him with a cry of relief.

  Endell waited, letting Horvold escape his traumatized state, and then tried to stand when he thought it had been long enough. But Horvold pulled him back down.

  “We have to go, right now…my father and the others are –”

  “—Endell, they aren’t here, remember? What happened to you? Tell me everything.”

  “No, we have to…something wants to kill them.”

  “How do you know?” Horvold asked.

  Endell looked him in the eyes, “I was there.”

  By the look on Horvold’s face, Endell knew he understood.

  “You…” Horvold’s mouth dropped open. “You traveled in the spiritual plane? But how?”

  Endell shrugged, “I don’t know. But we have to help them!”

  “There is nothing we can do, we can’t get through the castle to even start looking for them.”

  Horvold was right. Even if they could find them it would never be in time. “I warned them, they had time to escape…” he said.

  “They are strong and experienced; it would take a lot to hurt that group.”

  “Trask wasn’t with them,” he said.

  Horvold frowned. “Something must have happened.”

  “They were safe though, at least for now. They weren’t afraid until I warned them that something was coming.”

  Endell remembered everything like a dream. Things came back to him in bits and pieces. “There was book in the mountain, in a room…a history, answers, questions…I don’t know exactly what, but it’s important. I think somebody hid it from the Guide, someone who was afraid of him.”

  “Where in the mountain?” Horvold asked.

  “I sent my father to get it.” Endell looked down, “But I shouldn’t have, they could have escaped. But now…I don’t know. But they were so close.” He looked at Horvold, begging for approval. “It is important to us somehow…it wants us to find it. I didn’t know what to do.”

  Horvold took Endell’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. You did the right thing.”

  “They’ll be alright, won’t they? Whatever is in that room will protect them, don’t you think?”

  “Don’t worry, they’ll be fine.”

  More of the memories flooded his mind. “Oh! The Guide wasn’t alone, when he took me. He had one of the dark ones helping him, someone he called ZieZee. And she called him Dorg! She called the Guide Dorg…and they pulled me out of my body and put me in his.”

  “Yes, you told me that while under your trance. Everything you said confirms our fears; the Guide is a powerful wizard. Now we know he has a portal from the castle to another place, maybe even another world. And he has teamed up with the Director.”

  “The Director?”

  Horvold explained the situation with the ataiki but fell short of divulging Char’s secret identity, then continued. “He’s learned how to control the spiritual plane, it all makes sense. When you told me you were strapped into the chair and they started their magic, you stopped breathing. You were dead! Your spirit must have left your body again, just as it did with them.”

  Endell nodded, it made sense.

  Horvold frowned. “You could have died. It was a stupid thing for me to do. It’s not safe to experiment with the spiritual plane.”

  Endell shrugged, “But the light didn’t pull as hard this time. It was easier to stay away. I think if I went to the light I would die.”

  “Well, your body here was dead and it’s not worth risking your life. We won’t do that again. Even though it didn’t kill you we don’t know if it caused other problems. Do you feel alright?”

  “I feel fine.”

  “Can you walk? We were going to wait until you completely healed, but you seem to be doing better than I expected. Can we leave for Mandala tonight?”

  “I think so.” He stood up, his leg was stiff and he limped around the room. “I’m sore, but I can do it.”

  “Good, I’ll go tell Rudolfo’s girls we are leaving now so they can pack, we’ll pick them up on the way out. Thamus told them it would be a few days, but the sooner we get out of the city the better.”

  Horvold stood. “Stay here and sleep. I’ll be back and we’ll leave at sundown.”

  Endell knew sleeping would be easy. Horvold left and he wrapped himself in skins and dozed off. Several hours later, the sound of an upstairs door creaking open awakened him.

  “Anyone in here?”

  It wasn’t Horvold’s voice. Footsteps moved across the room above him.

  “Royal Guard! We are patrolling the city and have been asked by the Guide to inspect every house. Is anyone here?”

  Endell pulled the skins over his body and held his breath. The guard stayed quiet then walked out the door. Moments later it opened again and several sets of feet thumped across the ceiling. He heard furniture being moved, and something fell hard onto the floor.

  “Careful! Look for anything unusual but respect the property,” a voice said.

  Endell crawled out from under the covers and crept to the back exit and opened it slowly. Footsteps began descending the stairs.

  He pushed the door, slipped out, and had started to shut it closed when somebody inside yelled.

  “You! Stop!”

  Footsteps thundered on the ceiling and Endell slammed the door and sprinted down the alley behind the buildings, unsure where to go. He rounded a corner and stepped into a shallow ditch full of putrid water, the sewer. He splashed down the ankle deep muck and ducked into a side passage. The street ahead was full of guards and he stopped, still hidden in shadows, and took a step back. Then a hand seized his face from behind and another wrapped around his body, yanking him to the ground.

  Chapter 16

  Down a Dark Path

  “Marchello?” A yell echoed through the dungeons.

  “Guards!” Len said.

  “Marchello? Hello? Anyone down there? Hello?”

  “Hurry China!” Len whispered. “Find the key! Somebody’s coming!”

  She scratched her fingers against the rocks, digging and searching. Len locked his eyes on the opening to the stairwell across the room. If a guard appeared, they might have to kill him. He didn’t want that.

  “Found it!”

  China pulled a stone from the wall and reached inside. She pulled out a large key and hurried to the door. With a click it swung open and he felt a gentle breeze on his neck as it sucked air from the castle.

  “Get inside, quick, before they feel the air moving,” he said.

  China hurried to replace the key and Len stepped through the door and into darkness. He waved his hands in the air above and around him, feeling for the walls and ceiling but touched nothing. Then shadows flickered as Rudolfo brought the torch through the door. It wasn’t a natural cavern as he’d expected; like the rest of the castle, this too had been carved out of the mountain. Shelves along the walls held supplies. Ahead, the room narrowed into a hallway that burrowed deeper into the mountain. The door clanked shut behind him, sealing them off from the rest of the castle. He turned and faced his three companions.

  “We shouldn’t wait here,” Rudolfo said. “Let’s move ahead and find a safe place to hide until Trask comes through.”

  “I agree,” Len scanned the room. Torches,” he said pointing to the racks. “Everyone grab a couple.”

  “There is rope, too” China said. “It m
ight come in handy.”

  Len walked to her, grabbed a coiled bundle, and threw it over his shoulder.

  “Let’s go,” he said and touched his unlit torch to Rudolfo’s flame. “I’ll lead. Rudolfo, follow in the back. One torch in front and one in back ought to be enough, save the others for later. Stay alert and quiet, we might run into Marchello coming back or we might have other guards come from behind.”

  Len held the burning stick high and in front of him and started walking. The walls narrowed and the ceiling dropped as they moved forward. The hallway sloped downward, which helped them move at a fast pace. Why had Trask referred to this as a cavern? It was simply a long tunnel that had been carved straight through the mountain.

  Time passed and Len’s mind wandered. He replayed his experience with Horvold and Char. He worried about Jasper, Tari, and Delorah. He wondered how long men had worked at carving this passage and why they had done it. When his foot sunk into soft ground, it startled him and he jumped. He hadn’t been paying attention, a foolish act endangering himself and the others. He made a silent commitment to not let it happen again.

  He stepped out of the tunnel onto the soft floor of a massive cavern. He held up his torch and looked around; giant spires rose from the ground all around them. The torchlight wasn’t enough to illuminate the ceiling and spires vanished up into darkness.

  Nobody moved, there were noises all around them. The cave was alive with the sounds of dripping water. A deep, rhythmic drum somewhere to the left marked a steady cadence. Closer, and to the right, a high ting beat a faster pace. Accompanying from every direction were tones of all pitches and volumes as each droplet had its own voice in the mountain’s composition.

  “What is this place?” China said.

  Nobody answered.

  Ahead, the stalagmites had been cleared to form a path. He walked forward, constantly panning his eyes. They weaved around the pillars as if they were mighty trees in a forest. They walked on the shores of giant pools of water and marched through the middle of smaller ones. Although they could have ventured off in nearly any direction, the path was clear and they followed it. Occasional steps carved into the rock made the journey easier. At one point, a wooden bridge spanned a deep and wide crevice.