by Ben Hale
Within a minute, the grotesque figure of Plague entered the area of the map, and slowly worked his way alone towards the city. With an effort, Braon swallowed his despair as the arrows and magic launched towards the figure, knowing it would have no effect.
He hoped for more luck.
He prayed for a miracle.
Chapter 21: Council of Fire
Over the last day, Taryn had tried several times to talk to Siarra about the look she’d given him, but each time she had managed to avoid him. Voicing his concern to Liri, she shrugged it off.
“She’s probably worried about you Taryn,” she had said, but deep down he knew it was something else. Although he tried to convince himself it was nothing, he knew what he’d seen. He’d seen that look before, on the elves that had fought the assassin.
They knew they were going to die.
After a long night of fitful sleep, the thought persisted, and throughout day five he did his best to keep himself occupied. With Siarra avoiding him, and Trin and Mae off on their own, Taryn enjoyed the company of Liri, helping her to fashion more arrows from a stockpile of hardwood shafts that had been gathered by Captain Arrow’s men.
Taryn tried not to feel anxious, but the day dragged slower than he would have thought possible. On the other side of the world, he knew that thousands were dying while he sat around doing nothing. It rankled to be stuck in such a fashion, waiting on others, even though he knew it to be necessary.
More than once, he found his thoughts turning to Braon, and he wondered how the boy was faring at Azertorn. Were they even still alive? Siarra had made it clear the best they could hope to last was seven days. What if Azertorn had already fallen? Were their efforts in vain? Would the day of waiting cause them to be defeated?
The questions bounced back and forth, attacking his struggling hope like ravenous dogs. Then he would think to ask Siarra, reminding himself of the odd distance between them. Only the presence of Liri by his side kept him from succumbing to the pressure. So many lives were at stake, and all of them depended on their success. Once again, he felt small and inadequate.
Working side by side, Taryn and Liri said little during the tedious hours of waiting, with both wrapped in their heavy thoughts. By the time a runner came in saying that Royl had arrived, his frustration had neared the boiling point.
Arrow sent Fisk to gather the others, and within minutes the six of them were following the captain and his lieutenant on their way to the council chamber. Taryn slid into the rear, feeling hurt by the way his sister was avoiding eye contact. Doing his best to smile reassuringly at Liri, he pretended to look at the village around them.
Turning down a side path, Arrow led them into a smaller chamber set to the side of the main cavern. Bowl shaped, its only decoration was a roaring fire in the center of the room. Besides the guards, two fire giants stood next to it. As their party neared them, it became obvious who was the clan leader. Dressed in the same breeches and tunic as the others, he also wore a necklace and bracers forged from a sort of red metal that shimmered and reflected the firelight. His gaze carried an intensity and fierceness that mirrored the great fire next to him.
Taryn was surprised to note that as they approached the fire, it did not give off any more heat than any other piece of furniture, and he wondered if it was an illusion. Arriving next to the two giants, he looked upward at their twenty foot stature, grateful for their friendship. He didn’t want to imagine what it would be like if they were enemies.
Royl spoke first, and addressed Arrow. “Captain, lieutenant, I hope you are well.”
Arrow gave a curt bow. “King Royl, I am glad to see you are safely back. Did you discover anything new?”
“As we suspected, the army of Draeken is no longer growing. There has been no further movement of fiends exiting the fortress.”
Arrow nodded and swept his hand at the rest of them. “This is Siarra Elseerian, the Oracle of Lumineia, Taryn, her brother, Trin, Jack, and then Liriana and Maemi of the elves of Azertorn. They have come to destroy Draeken.”
Royl stood for several seconds, shifting to look at one, and then another. When he met Taryn’s gaze, Taryn felt as if he were looking into a firestorm of anger and suppressed rage. Last his eyes came to rest on Siarra. Without a word, he reached into the fire next to him and withdrew a large fireball. Then he tossed it to Siarra.
With a ghost of a smile, Siarra caught the ball deftly and juggled it for a moment before bouncing it back to Royl. With a flick of the wrist, he deflected it back into the flames. Tossing his black hair out of his eyes, he said. “I see you know fire magic, at least, but an oracle is supposed to be able to do much more. The subsequent look he gave Siarra caused her lips to tighten.
Reaching towards the flames, she called a fireball back into her hands. Tossing it high, it began to take the shape of a man, and then began to grow. Striding towards the fire giants, it swelled to match their own stature until it came to a halt ten feet from the king. Siarra’s outstretched hand abruptly clenched, and a blast of freezing air swirled towards the flaming shape. In less than a second, the liquid flames froze solid. The ice giant lasted for only an instant before a pillar of stone plunged from the ceiling and crushed it, shattering the ice into thousands of glittering shards.
Taryn flinched at the sudden impact, and watched Royl’s eyes narrow as the pillar slowly rose back into the ceiling. For a moment, the scraping of the rock as the spike withdrew was the only sound.
When Royl spoke, Taryn was surprised at the cordial tone. “You must forgive my doubt. In these dark times I must be certain you are who you say you are.”
Siarra’s head tilted upward. “Satisfied?”
For the first time, the giant smiled and turned to the giant next to him. “I am. Cadel, do you doubt her claim?”
The second giant shook his head and his lips twitched. “I believe that was sufficient . . . encouragement to believe.”
Royl returned his gaze to Siarra, his expression unconvinced. “How do you think the few of you can slay Draeken, or even get past the fiend army that is blocking the way?”
Siarra lifted her hands and light began to bend, drawing together and forming the model of Xshaltheria once more. “Before I answer your question, can you help fill in some gaps?”
Royl, his eyes on the model, nodded.
Siarra stepped forward and pointed to the city itself, hanging inside the volcano. “Can you describe the inside of the city in greater detail? Also, can you explain exactly where Draeken is imprisoned?”
Royl gave a sweeping gesture towards the citadel. “As you have there, the entire city inside is suspended by three chains. Each chain is the strongest material I have ever seen forged, and is magically re-enforced in a way that I doubt even you can break.”
Cadel chuckled. “We tried to break them as we were being forced out, but our magic, even united, had no effect.”
Siarra furrowed her brow, considering their words. “The ancient dwarves who built the city obviously did not want their city to fall into the molten rock. I would guess the chain draws strength from the stone of the mountain. Any attempt to break it only causes it to draw energy from the mountain to fortify itself.”
Cadel gave a harsh bark of laughter. “The mountain is very large.”
“Exactly,” Siarra said, shaking her head. “I believe you are right. Dropping the city won’t occur unless something dissolved the magic—which can only happen by something stronger than the power that created it. Perhaps if we had the entire dwarven population here . . .” She swept her arms out. “Tell me about the interior.”
Royl bent to examine the model, and Siarra made a hand gesture that caused the castle to grow. Satisfied, the giant king spoke, “The interior of the city is formed of levels. There is a hollow column through the center of all of them, extending from the very top, to the bottom. My father said that the dwarves placed it so excess heat from the volcano was drawn upward and out. It is the only thing that keeps the t
emperature in the city livable.”
He stabbed a finger towards the top tier. “The top level was once fortifications and training areas, and also houses many fiends. The next few levels are almost exclusively private quarters and kitchens. The fifth tier is a large bowl that at one time was the dwarven great hall. The next four levels contain thousands of individual forges. The last level is the one where Draeken was found. It was not discovered until recently.” A sad smile creased his features, making the giant appear old.
“Where is the entrance to his chamber?” Siarra asked.
Cadel stepped forward with a glance towards the king. “The entrance is through a great stone arch on the ninth level. The stone under the archway is merely an illusion. On the other side is a short path that leads to an overlook. Although I did not enter the chamber myself, my father told me that the ledge looks down on a perfect circle of stone. Fifty feet across, it had no railing or obvious support. The walls of the pit are at least ten human paces away from the edge of the stone circle. Between them, the molten lava is visible below. By its location, I would say the circle looks up the hollow column to the sky above. We do not know the original purpose of the chamber.”
“It’s a prison,” Jack said, his expression hard. “The best I have ever heard of. From inside, you would be surrounded by air, too far to jump to the pit wall, which I would wager is smooth. Any attempt to escape would result in falling into the lava beneath it.”
Liri flashed a wry smile. “It seems fitting. Draeken was chained inside the greatest prison devised by the mortal races.”
“Where in the pit is Draeken?” Taryn asked, watching Siarra alter the map to fit the new information.
“As I was told, he is chained to the wall directly across from the entrance. The portal that brought the fiends into this world was next to him.”
Siarra nodded, absently twisting her fingers to place Draeken on the map. Furrowing her brow, she asked. “If the fiends in the valley were occupied, and the ones on the outer battlements were lured down to join them, could your forces distract the fiends within the city?”
Royl scratched his chin for a moment before replying. “Yes, but not for long unless we drew them out of the city and into a trap. Even within the city there are too many for us.”
Siarra's eyebrows knit together, her eyes flicking to Taryn, causing him to feel a sense of dread creep down his spine and settle in his stomach.
Squaring her shoulders she said, “I propose a three pronged attack. The first will draw the fiends into the valley, leaving the outer battlements and the road clear.” She pointed towards the road. “A small group will then do whatever it takes to rig that section of the road to fall, sealing the fiends in the valley. The next attack will be the fire giants, striking at the city and drawing them out. Last of all, Taryn and Liri will attempt to slip into the city unnoticed while the fiends are distracted.”
Royl had folded his arms, his expression dubious. “How are we supposed to get to the city? The surface is too risky, and the tunnels were dropped behind us.”
“I will clear the tunnels,” Siarra said.
Cadel frowned at her. “There must be five hundred paces of broken rock—”
“I will clear the tunnels,” she exclaimed, tilting her chin upward.
“Supposing you can get us back into the tunnels," Royl said, raising a hand, "that still leaves the forces in the valley. What could possibly draw them out?”
Siarra's eyes narrowed. “Me,” Siarra said simply.
Chapter 22: Plan of Sacrifice
“But that’s suicide!” Taryn exploded.
“I know what it means,” Siarra said turning to him. “But there is no other way.”
“There has to be another way!” Taryn said, struggling to keep the desperation from creeping into his voice.
“If I take the tunnel to the center of the valley, I can take them by surprise,” she said, her tone firm. “I can hold out long enough for you to get into the city.”
“Blast it, Siarra,” he burst out. “That will bring every fiend down on you . . .” Taryn couldn’t finish it as the realization of what she was suggesting sunk in. He felt like he was losing his mind. Why wasn’t anyone else speaking up? Did anyone even care about her? The hardest part was that even he would admit it gave them a chance.
“I have to do this Taryn,” she said, her soft tone drawing him in, making him feel like they were the only two people in the room.
“Siarra, you can’t . . .” Taryn said, his voice thick with emotion.
“It must be done, Taryn,” she replied. “The only thing that matters is destroying Draeken. Whatever else happens, you must defeat him.”
“What does victory matter, if you lose everything you fight for?” He bit the words off as he turned away, unable to look at his sister any longer. Doesn’t she understand? I spent my whole life hoping to find my family, only to lose it in this cursed war! Rage, frustration, and sadness swept through him, crashing over him until he couldn’t stand it any longer. Turning on his heel, he strode out of the room. Stepping out the door, he turned and leaned against the wall, taking several deep breaths in an attempt to steady his emotions.
Hearing footsteps approaching from inside the chamber, he bolted. Running as hard as he could, he raced through the village, threading his way towards the human camp. The minute he reached it, he ran straight up the wall and grasped a rough piece of stone. Scaling the wall, he made his way to the roof and crossed it. A quick glance revealed a ledge on the cavern wall another twenty feet up. Without hesitation, he climbed.
Reaching the small ledge, he pulled himself onto it and scooted back until his back rested against the cavern wall. With nowhere else to go, he tipped his head back and fought the wave of emotion.
How could she do this to me? His mind screamed. I spent my life searching for my family and she is just going to die! Anger, pain, and loss swept through him, so bitter it left his chest aching. Again and again he fought to gain control of his feelings, until finally the wracking hurt began to dissipate, only to be replaced by a deep, numbing sadness.
There was no other way. Any way he looked at it, there was no way they could be victorious—not in the time they had, and not with the resources available. In all reality, few of them were likely to survive anyway, and he would probably join his sister in death. Death is the reward for heroes. The thought was so harsh he swallowed and clenched his fists.
It just didn’t seem fair, and despite himself, he took another look at the fortress that was their target. Imagining every detail, examining every corner, he desperately sought for anything they had overlooked, anything that would keep his sister alive. There had to be something they hadn’t seen, or a different strategy that no one had thought of . . .
It took over an hour for him to give up, his mind buzzing and the aching sadness threatening to burst. Looking downward in frustration, he viewed the underground city, still bustling with signs of the fire giant way of life. Pinpoints of light lit up the great cavern, and the large figures of soldiers, mothers, and young giants moved through the city with a purpose. Everywhere he looked he saw family, united and close. Did he have to lose his family so others could keep theirs? Was that the price of victory?
Movement caught his eye, and he turned to see a slim female elf climb onto the roof. Slowed by the bundle hanging on her back, she stopped to look around. Her gaze searched in vain and it appeared she was confused, but then her eyes lifted and searched higher. It didn’t take long for Liri to spot him.
Even from his ledge, he could see the triumphant smile flash across her features as she moved in his direction. Taryn sighed and leaned back on the ledge. A large part of him didn’t want to talk to anyone, but a small piece felt grateful it was Liri. The two parts warred, holding him fast long enough for Liri’s pretty face to appear.
“Give me a hand, would you?” she said, her tone light.
Reaching out, he grasped her outstretched hand and pulled her
onto the ledge. With the grace of her race, she slid into a seat next to him, unstrapping the bundle on her back. Untying it, she began to withdraw a large mug of fire ale, and two meat sandwiches.
“I thought you might be hungry,” she said, picking up her own sandwich and leaning back.
An easy silence stretched between them until Taryn relented and picked up the offering. Liri said nothing while they ate, but he felt warmed by the touch of her slim shoulder on his. By the time he finished eating, he felt ready to talk. Taking a swig of the burning liquid, he said, “I just don’t understand, Liri. It isn’t fair.”
She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “I know Taryn.” Her fingers slid up his arm, entwining with his.
For the next several minutes his anger got the best of him, but she only ate while he seethed. When his feelings had run their course, he fell silent, ashamed of his behavior, yet grateful for the chance to voice his thoughts.
Liri waited, her expression patient and full of concern. After a few moments she asked, “Feel better?” When he nodded, she added, “When we left Azertorn, I felt the same way you do now.”
Surprised at her comments, he spun to face her. “What do you mean? Azertorn was the only safe . . .” He stopped when he realized what she meant.
She gave him a faint smile. “The entire fiend army was on its way to my homeland, and I was leaving. There was no way to know if anyone will survive the assault, least of all my sisters or mother.” She took a deep breath and looked away. “They are too strong-willed to back down. Although they are healers, they will fight to the last breath.” She finished the statement in barely a whisper.
“Just like Siarra,” Taryn said, understanding lighting his tone. “So what made you come with me?”