by M. Gregg Roe
The four of them stood roughly one hundred yards from what Audrey stubbornly insisted on referring to as a castle, facing the side with the door but not directly in line with it. To the left of the door, a single sandstone block awaited installation in a gap about a yard above the ground. Standing next to the block, Audrey was waiting for Mardan to signal that everything was ready—impatiently waiting, from the look of it. The door was hard to make out clearly from a distance, but he knew it measured roughly five yards square and was about a yard above ground level. Sensibly, it was designed to open out and down, forming a ramp.
His clothing already felt moist as he wilted in the mid-morning sun. The few small wispy clouds in the sky moved leisurely to the northeast. He hadn’t thought to bring a hat, but there were some elm trees nearby that they could always shelter under if it became too hot.
Ferikellan knew nothing of military strategy, but he thought the positioning looked reasonable. Two groups of the fearsome-looking, hammer-armed constructs stood twenty yards back from the two adjacent sides of the structure. Gabriel and his contingent of ogre warriors surrounded the rear of the castle, also keeping their distance. Birchbark was off to the left, alone and leaning on the EarthStaff as if it were a mere walking stick. To the right, Mardan, Zyrahi, and the Collector stood in a tight cluster. Looking very much the warriors they were, Draymund and Saxloc were aloft, slowly circling the castle from a distance.
“It’s time,” Rosalind said, giving his hand another painful squeeze.
He looked over in time to see Audrey pick up the block, take two steps, then push it into place. Then she vanished. “I don’t think we have long to wait,” came Audrey’s voice from just to his right, startling him.
“Kyran!” Rosalind exclaimed. “Do you sense that?”
There was no way that he could not. “The towers,” he breathed. To his magical sense, the slim structures were now an inferno of complex magic. And the intensity was increasing rapidly.
Ferikellan flinched as a loud, metallic clatter erupted from two directions. It was the constructs. Their enchantment had been disrupted somehow, transforming them into piles of inert scrap metal. A glance showed the Collector unaffected, perhaps because it was farther away from the castle. Draymund and Saxloc were still aloft, but they were moving away from the structure. As spell-casters, they could also sense the incredible power building.
Audrey abruptly flew straight upward, stopping some fifty yards up and staring at the castle. When she returned, she landed in front of them. “The center is also filled with strong magic,” she told them worriedly. “I can’t measure it.” She shot back into the air, creating another brief breeze.
Vurk suddenly stepped forward. “Then maybe we should move back more,” he suggested, waving all four arms for emphasis.
They all agreed that was a good idea, but they had only traveled fifteen yards when Rosalind motioned for everyone to stop. “It’s leveled out,” she said, gazing intently at the nearest tower.
Standing with Rosalind to his left and Vurk to his right, Ferikellan focused his attention on the castle. The intensity appeared to be constant now. It was also immense, easily enough to destroy both the castle and its surroundings if it were channeled into a destructive spell. He was about to suggest that they continue their retreat when the ground shook sharply. Glancing around as his heart pounded, he could see that the others had also felt it. He braced himself for another tremor, but none came.
“The magic is gone,” Rosalind said, sounding almost disappointed. “Well, except the usual from the blocks.”
He sensed the same. “I believe that something rather heavy just materialized inside,” he stated, struggling to keep his voice level. He envisioned the interior filled with massive creatures, perhaps with armored exoskeletons. The feared invasion had arrived.
They were retreating even farther when Audrey flew up to them. “There’s metal behind both the walls and roof now,” she said, “but I can’t sense past it.”
He was very curious how she could sense the metal, but it clearly wasn’t the time to ask. “What of the towers?” he inquired.
She looked toward the castle. “There’s nothing inside them or the hole in the middle. But they’re still hot. The walls are also hot.”
Now he wondered how she could remotely sense temperature. “We may have to wait until it has cooled before anything further occurs,” he opined. That would allow them time to retreat farther, something that he dearly wished to do.
“You may be right,” she told him. “Stay here. I’ll speak to Mardan.”
“Anyone hungry?” Vurk asked after Audrey flew away. “We brought lots of food and drink.”
That explained the large basket that Harbik had been lugging around. By the time Audrey returned once again, they were having a picnic of sorts in the shade of the nearby elms. But she only stayed briefly before once again rushing off. Ferikellan sighed softly to himself. The waiting had begun.
Sitting in the dappled sunlight beneath the trees, Ferikellan fought to stay awake as he watched the ogres going about their assigned task. They were hauling off the remains of the constructs, creating a heap of scrap metal. It was probably just Gabriel’s way of keeping them busy, which wasn’t a bad idea. Boredom had become the real threat.
Following the initial excitement, tedium had set in. The castle’s door remained stubbornly closed, and there were no further eruptions of magic. No sounds from inside had been detected. It was, in a word, dull. Ferikellan no longer cared what happened when the door opened. He just wanted to return home and lie down.
A few minutes later, Rosalind suddenly sprang to her feet. “I’m going for a walk,” she announced, then strode away in the camp's direction with Harbik following. Vurk lounged nearby, either asleep or pretending to be.
Ferikellan laid back and put his hands behind his head. “Vurk,” he called out.
“Yes, boss?”
“If you don’t mind me asking, I am curious as to your relationship with Marva. The two of you seem to spend a great deal of time together.”
“We’re just friends,” Vurk said, but he sounded defensive.
“So there won’t be any four-armed, blue ogre children?” Ferikellan asked lightly, smiling as he tried to picture it.
Vurk guffawed briefly. “We don’t breed outside our species, boss.”
“And will you be breeding within your species?”
“I already have. We all do before going into service.”
Ferikellan looked over at Vurk, but the gworn’s expression was unreadable. He thought for a moment before giving voice to his next question. “Are you given a choice regarding your service?”
“Of course we are,” Vurk said, as if amazed that someone could even ask such a thing.
That was interesting, but what he really wanted to know was how gworn decided who was worthy of being served. There was also the question of how they arrived. Vurk had just shown up one morning, and no one that Ferikellan had asked had seen the gworn arrive. Harbik’s arrival was just as mysterious. When asked about the matter, Vurk just grinned. And ordering him to answer did no good.
Ferikellan glanced upward as a cloud covered the sun. “Will you ever see your offspring, Vurk?”
“Not unless I end up working with one. Once we leave, that’s it. We don’t go back and visit.”
Leave from where? Did the gworn originate from a different plane of existence? Was there a gworn deity that assigned them work? That might explain how they only appeared when needed. Ferikellan had so many questions, but he knew he needed to tread lightly. Otherwise Vurk would go back to feigning ignorance or pretend to fall asleep.
“Aliva told us that her father’s two gworn originally served someone else,” Ferikellan prompted.
“She also said the woman got herself killed away from home,” Vurk retorted, then yawned loudly. “So her gworn didn’t have to die protecting her. Then Aliva’s father took over her place and her laboratory. He was also a r
esearcher, so they stayed.”
It was a reasonable explanation. “If Aliva’s father hadn’t been worthy, would those two have been reassigned?”
“Nope. They’d have been free. But unattached gworn don’t live long.”
It was another unexpected tidbit of information. Ferikellan was pondering another question when Vurk began to snore loudly. Still, he had uncovered interesting facts about gworn that would definitely interest Rosalind. Feeling sleepy himself, Ferikellan laid back, closed his eyes, and joined his assistant in slumber.
As the army of gworn thundered out of the castle, Ferikellan wondered why he hadn’t seen it coming. Gworn assistants weren’t altruistic; they were spies and infiltrators, the advance force paving the way for the invasion. They had targeted him and Rosalind because their unmatched magical prowess posed a threat to the creatures’ insidious schemes. If only he had recognized the warning signs earlier, then disaster might have been averted.
There was no hope of resistance. The invaders were immune to magical attack, simply ignoring spells cast at them. Despite their size and strength, the ogres were quickly overborne and taken captive. Trapped in a cage of glowing blue bars, Audrey screamed her frustration. Gworn with wings pursued those who could fly. Inside their own glowing cage, Rosalind gazed at him beseechingly as Vurk and Harbik laughed cruelly from outside, exulting in their triumph.
And it wasn’t just Andoran’s Realm! Similar structures had appeared throughout the world, each sited in a remote area. Legions of gworn marched forth, killing or enslaving all who opposed them. Meanwhile, gworn inside cities played their own parts, slaying guards and unbarring gates as they opened the way for their brethren. The centuries-old conspiracy had finally come to fruition. The Age of Gworn had begun.
“Your pardon,” said a voice, and he awoke with a start. “I did not wish to disturb you,” Zyrahi continued, “but I have news to impart.”
Ferikellan gave the elegant-looking woman an embarrassed smile as he slowly sat up and sought to shed his drowsiness. To his credit, Vurk was both awake and eyeing the woman with suspicion. And that made his vision seem even more ridiculous.
As always, details of the dream now seemed off. Why did Vurk and Harbik suddenly have long fangs and glowing red eyes? How did he know what was going on elsewhere in the world? And why was Rosalind naked, and he clad only in a loincloth? But that was the way of dreams, and this one had been colored by both the situation and his earlier conversation with Vurk.
Gesturing toward the castle, she said, “I have been asked to inform you that the door has begun to open, albeit slowly.”
He moved his head to the right to get an unobstructed view, but couldn’t see any change in the door’s appearance. Several people were now standing to either side of the door, staring toward the top of it. One of them, naturally, was Audrey.
“Thank you,” he said, staring at the woman that they told him was actually a powerful demon. To him, she merely registered as a weak spell-caster.
“You are welcome. It may be some time before the door has fully opened, or the rate might increase.”
He surveyed his surroundings. Ogres were resuming their positions behind the structure, but they seemed in no hurry. Gabriel and Saxloc ambled in that direction as they conversed. He didn’t see Rosalind, but she might be at the camp inside a tent.
“I believe I will remain here for the moment,” he said to Zyrahi, who was showing no signs of leaving.
“May I share your haven?” she asked. “It is sweltering standing in the sun. I no longer have any duties now that the constructs have been neutralized.”
“Of course,” he replied. She seated herself so that the three of them were roughly in a triangle. “Do you think destroying the constructs was a deliberate act?” he asked her.
She hesitated. “It is possible, but I suspect not. More likely it is a side effect, a brief and localized disruption of magic. It is fortunate that those flying were sufficiently distant to remain unaffected.”
Curious, he asked her some questions about the demon realm. Her answers painted a picture of a world that was both fascinating and frightening. She spoke of cubical suns, moons whose size and shape varied rhythmically, towering iridescent clouds that reached nearly to the ground. Change was the only constant. He closed his eyes as she spoke, the better to visualize it.
As he answered some of her questions about his own background, Rosalind and Harbik finally returned. They had brought several skins of cold water with them, and he eagerly consumed his share. The heat really was getting to him.
Zyrahi soon departed, and Rosalind laid down to take a nap. The door was visibly open now, but not enough to see what lay behind it. Once again drowsy, Ferikellan laid down next to her. Hopefully, his dreams would be happier should he doze off again, or at least less bizarre.
[ 40 ]
Grand Opening
Audrey scowled at the castle’s so-called drawbridge. Slowbridge would have been a better description, because it was taking forever to open. There was metal behind it, but there was also a vertical line she assumed was where that would open outward, half swinging to either side. But that couldn’t happen until the stupid drawbridge finished opening. It was tempting to just blast it to pieces, but that would probably send the wrong message. Gods, she was tired of waiting.
Losing the constructs had been both unexpected and annoying. She would definitely order the Collector to reanimate them, assuming that was still possible. But that obviously wouldn’t help the current situation. A significant portion of their forces had been neutralized.
“This will take at least another half-hour,” Rosalind complained, standing between Audrey and Harbik. The heavily armed gworn was sporting his usual impassive look.
“And then we have to wait for the metal doors to open,” Audrey added. “It’s the world’s slowest invasion.” Rosalind smiled in response, but it looked forced. She had begged to remain with Ferikellan and the others, but Audrey wanted the woman close in case there was a need to translate.
Gabriel was somewhere behind the castle, supervising the ogres as they kept watch for any other openings to appear. (Mardan was nothing if not thorough.) Saxloc and Draymund were back to slowly circling the structure, hopefully keeping watch on the roof. Everyone else was well back, waiting to see what happened. And they were probably as exasperated as she was.
Hoping her own smile appeared genuine, Audrey looked over and said, “If it looks at all dangerous, I’ll teleport all three of us away.” She had already told them that, but further reassurance couldn’t hurt.
Rosalind nodded, then took hold of her left wrist with her right hand and began rubbing it. It was a nervous habit of hers that Audrey hadn’t seen in a long time. She exchanged looks with Harbik, and he nodded his understanding. He put a hand gently on Rosalind’s forearm, and she pulled her right hand away with her eyes downcast.
“Would you rather wait farther back?” Audrey asked. They were currently standing about twenty yards in front of the slowly opening door.
“No. It’s just…” She looked at Audrey helplessly.
This kind of situation didn’t faze experienced adventurers, but it was terrifying poor Rosalind. Audrey had suffered a panic attack the first time she was deep underground, and it looked like Rosalind might be headed toward something similar. The woman’s face was ashen as she took rapid and shallow breaths. It was probably only a matter of time before she fainted.
“Priestess Rosalind,” Audrey ordered, “close your eyes.” After a startled glance, Rosalind obeyed. “Focus on your breathing,” Audrey continued smoothly, pretending that she was speaking to one of her students. “Inhale slowly through your nose, pause briefly, then slowly exhale through your mouth.”
Rosalind’s color improved as she obeyed. Speaking firmly but quietly, Audrey taught her a Shorinken breathing exercise. “Find an image to focus on,” she intoned. “Choose something that makes you feel happy, at peace with the world.” Knowing Ros
alind, it would probably be a cat.
“Okay,” Rosalind said with her eyes still closed. Standing up straight, her arms hung loose. Her breathing was regular now, slow and deep. That was perfect.
Audrey continued her lesson as Harbik looked on with gratitude. When Rosalind finally opened her eyes, she peered at the half-open drawbridge and said, “I don’t recognize the type of metal.”
“Neither do I,” Audrey said. The dull cobalt blue surface had a mottled appearance, with some areas almost black. She wondered if it was some type of corrosion, maybe a sign of age.
“Thank you, Audrey,” Rosalind said. “I feel better now.”
“Just trying to help.” Audrey paused a moment to think. “We’ve still got time. What’s new with your family, Rosalind?”
Rosalind burst out laughing. “Wait until you hear what one of my cousins did. It’s scandalous.”
By the time the end of the drawbridge neared the ground, they were all laughing about it.
The time had finally arrived. No sooner had the drawbridge touched the ground when the two halves of the metal door began to slide sideways and disappear. And they were doing it quickly. The chamber behind them was four yards deep and made from the same odd metal, but with fewer discolored areas. A vertical line visible on the far wall implied another set of sliding doors, but Audrey’s attention was on the truly strange creature inside.
“What is that?” Rosalind whispered, staring in fascination.
“I have no idea.” Audrey had never seen anything like it.
Standing on three squat black cylinders was a bright yellow squashed sphere. Sprouting out of the sphere’s top were at least a dozen black tentacles that varied both in length and what they ended in. Some tentacles ended in silvery spheres, while others split into three parts, maybe functioning as fingers. One even had what looked like a toothless mouth. Around the sphere’s circumference were patterns composed of bright pink triangles that varied in orientation but not size. Maybe a decoration? Had it been larger the creature would certainly have been frightening, but it was so small that Rosalind would tower over it.