The Valley of Ten Crescents Series (Box Set: Books 1-3)

by Tristan J. Tarwater

  Nothing happened. There was a strange, grating sound coming from somewhere but more importantly there was a lever on the other side of the wall. He turned to run for the lever when the sudden sound of metal slamming forcefully into stone pierced his ears. Derk jumped and screamed, wheeling around to see what had made the sound.

  Right at the exit of the tunnel where his neck had formerly been was a large, metal plate, rust hiding its true color. Small clouds of dust billowed around the metal plate and Derk had no doubt it was still very sharp. He gulped, pulled away from the thoughts of his own mortality by the shouts of his comrades from the other side.

  “Don’t worry!” he shouted, his throat dry from stress and running, hoping they heard him. He jumped up to grab a hold of the lever, missing the first time, screaming the second time as he grabbed it with both hands, his injured wrist burning with pain. He gritted his teeth as he crouched down and leaped up growling, grabbing hold of the lever and using the weight of his body to pull the switch down and hopefully the door up.

  He heard the sound of chains moving and gears moving yet again but a series of metal bangs and a few booms from somewhere below made Derk’s heart sink. He thought of the blade which would have killed him and how it had deployed late. If it had rusted, there was a good chance the chains working the door had rusted as well and snapped from the counter weights deployed after all these years. Tears of frustration sprang to his eyes. He wouldn’t be able to open the door. They were trapped. He would have to go back through the tunnel.…

  The tunnel. Derk ran back over to the tunnel, the way blocked by the metal plate. He rapped his knuckles on it to judge its thickness, ignoring the blood stains now painting the orange colored metal. As most metal things meant to slice through flesh and bone, it was heavy but thin, flakes of rust scouring his skin. Maybe he could get the blade moved. Maybe someone else could.

  “DEVRA!” He screamed the girl’s name, his voice hoarse but desperation propelling his plea forward. “DEVRA! I NEED YOU TO SHOOT SOMETHING DOWN THE TUNNEL! I NEED-”

  He didn’t finish his sentence as something did indeed come down the tunnel. There was a high pitched whizzing sound as cracks he hadn’t noticed in the walls went from black to white as something made of light shot toward the metal plate. Derk was unable to take cover as the metal plate flew out and hit him in the head, knocking him sideways. For a moment everything before him was blurry and then black. Something told him he had to keep his wits about him.

  Derk stumbled in the direction of the tunnel, the sounds from the other side telling him where to go. “Devra! I can’t get the door open, we’ll all have to come through the tunnel! Tell the others and then come on!”

  Light and dark played at the other side of the tunnel before it remained dark, wood scraping against stone telling him she sent her staff first. Derk placed the light stone on his end of the tunnel, beckoning the young woman to come quickly. Devra stopped suddenly, her eyes wide with alarm. “I think I pushed something!”

  “It’s okay, it’s been disarmed!” he called, urging her to come forward. Above his head he heard the rusted workings of the trap resetting itself, never to kill again. Devra crawled through, another shadow falling across the opposite end of the tunnel. This time a box was placed in the tunnel, a set of grey eyes peering from behind it as Derk helped the Wielder. First came the intricately carved box and then the priestess, pulling her robes along with her, her face wan and drained though she smiled at Derk as she exited. “We have pushed them back,” she said quietly, kissing him on the lips briefly, taking his hand in hers. “Asa and Jezlen gave them such a fight, they grew disheartened and retreated.”

  “Asa and Jezlen need to get in,” came a quiet voice from within the tunnel. The pair moved away from the tunnel exit, first the elf and then the human emerging. Asa was the worse off of the two but he was smiling in his usual fashion, bushy eyebrows almost hiding the relief in his eyes. He went over to his sister and gave her as much of a hug as he could muster before looking to Derk. “Couldn’t get the door open?”

  Derk shook his head grimly and looked at the tunnel everyone had just crawled through. “That door won’t open ever again. We should place the stone over the mouth of the tunnel and wedge it in so we can be sure not to have any followers,” he said, holding his injured wrist in his other hand. “This door only opens from this side and the switch is broken so we should be safe. Best we get to sealing up the tunnel,” Derk said, not wanting to be surprised by more creatures anytime soon. “Asa?” Asa nodded and walked over, the two of them managing to put the stone back in its place, the others handing them spare cloth and rock chips to wedge it into place. Sore as he was, it was difficult work and Derk wondered how he had managed to move the stone himself. He eventually had to chalk it up to fear. Once they were satisfied the stone wouldn’t be moved by anything weaker than Asa, Derk slumped against one of the walls and waited for his turn to be patched up.

  “I am glad we got the chalice before they moved it,” said Sindra, turning her interest to the ornate box on the floor, kneeling before it. She placed her hands on its lid for a moment before removing the key from around her neck and unlocking the receptacle for the holy object. The party gathered around, forgetting their aches and troubles for a moment as they all tried to see the object.

  It was a two handed cup. The body was carved of white stone and engraved and inlaid with silver holy symbols. The phases of the moon danced around the rim of it, waxing and waning in antiqued silver. In the bottom of the cup was set a pearl of great size, milky white and round like the celestial body it was meant to emulate.

  Devra gasped in awe and Derk and Asa bowed their heads in reverence. Derk hadn’t thought seeing it would have drawn any emotion out of him but it did. It was beautiful and it shone with its own light, a soft glow seeming to radiate and bathe its rescuers in its glory. Sindra closed the lid and locked it, placing the key back around her neck before looking up to the others, eyes shining with tears of happiness. “That’s been tended to,” Sindra said, a proud smile tugging at her lips. “Let’s see about getting us all patched up.”

  Jezlen came to his aid, but a look from Derk and the elf just smirked faintly, going over to a corner to see to his own wounds. Eventually Sindra came and sat by Derk looking over his wrist and shoulder, judging them both bad sprains. She took several bandages from her pack, wrapping them tightly. She finished by applying balm to his hands. Derk could have done it himself but he wasn’t going to turn her away.

  “All right, everyone’s patched up. We need to figure a way out of here,” said Asa when the gashes on his neck and shoulder were treated.

  “I don’t think we’ll have to search hard,” Derk said, sitting up a bit straighter. He pointed at the lever and door with his chin, rubbing his rough face with his hand. “That door only opens from this side. There must be a way to get to this side up ahead.”

  “I agree with Derk,” said Jezlen. He looked up from his weapons, all laid out in front of him in size order for inspection, his face looking as if he had just been roused from sleep and not facing bloody battle. “When we first entered the cave, it was clear the caverns were natural. The chamber we are in now was made. The cave we entered must have been the rear entrance while what lies ahead would most likely be the main entrance to this underground structure.”

  “Well, those creatures didn’t build this,” chimed in Devra, her hands gloved once more and replaiting her thick hair. “If what you say is true, they obviously hadn’t found the tunnel yet and are kept back by the door. If not them, who?”

  Derk lifted his head slightly, blinking as they all finally looked over the sides of the chamber they were occupying. He stood up and taking the still glowing sword Devra had made in his hand, thrust it before him. “The answer to that,” he said, turning to his comrades, “I believe is in the writing on the wall.”

  The party puzzled over the carvings on the walls around them for a while, trying to make sense of the
figures and the activities they seemed to be carrying out. They couldn’t agree on what or who the figures could have been and became more and more unsettled as they agreed upon their actions. The stone room seemed to become darker as the discussion trailed off, no one willing to end it properly, unwilling to say what was on everyone’s minds.

  The empty eyes of the stone figures seemed to be watching them. At one point Devra suggested they make camp elsewhere, but by then everyone was too tired to move. Their wounds had been tended but most of the company had sore muscles and all needed a good night’s sleep.

  Jezlen offered to take the first watch. Sindra said she would take the second, and Derk was glad to hear it. But as tired as he was Derk couldn’t manage to fall asleep. Every time he drifted off, he would think he heard something and wake up. The noise always seemed to come from one of the engravings on the wall. He rolled over on his bed and looked around, noticing one of the others sitting up or tossing and turning as well. Sindra sighed beside him and he drew closer to her, smiling as she opened her eyes and gazed into his. He kissed her on the forehead and rolled over again, hoping to drift off soon. After tossing and turning a half dozen more times, he sat up, looking over to Jezlen and raising an eyebrow. A wry smile played on the elf’s face, his eyes turned toward the weapons he was cleaning.

  Derk contented himself with carving into one of the stones on the floor, carefully etching a waxing crescent moon, sure to close the shape with a heart before carving, “Derk loves Sindra,” his tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth. Thirsty, he reached over his sleeping love to feel around for the water skin. He took the opportunity to squeeze her backside, trying to feign innocence as she rolled over to smack his hand and laugh quietly.

  “Since you are awake, perhaps you should take your watch, dear Sindra,” Jezlen said. Derk looked up at Jezlen, the elf finally putting his weapons away. “Not an issue, correct?”

  “No issue whatsoever, Jezlen,” Sindra said. She kissed Derk on the cheek before she sat up on her bedroll, pulling out a book to read before she moved to where he couldn’t reach her. He huffed and glared to Jezlen.

  “You should try to sleep as well, Derk,” Jezlen said. It sounded as if the elf were chiding him. Derk considered throwing something at him but couldn’t find anything to throw, so he scowled instead before he rolled over on his bedroll.

  Derk tried to get some sleep once more. He was finally able to nod off, but he didn’t dream and he felt as if he was being watched the entire time. He was glad to be woken up by a kiss on the cheek, turning his face to return the kiss only to find his lips on a face in need of a shave and he pulled back, shocked to find a grinning Asa. Chuckles rose up from the other party members as he sat up in bed. Derk wished this had been the first time they played this trick on him, but it wasn’t, and for some reason they never tired of it. He jabbed the burly Asa in the shoulder, still not able to hold back his laugh at the old joke, though his chuckle was dampened as he looked up at the walls of the room. He couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable at the carved figures looming above the laughing group.

  First meal was quick and uneventful. They ate their dried biscuits and fruit in silence, except when Jezlen told Asa to chew more quietly. The five of them packed up, the stone wedged in the tunnel still intact and untouched. Devra made a few lights and anxiously they set off.

  “Is it just me or is there something off about these figures?” Derk asked, casting a light up onto one of the reliefs. They didn’t bother to stop but gazed over the walls as they hurried on, eager to leave. The group walked through the silent halls, the figures lining the walls and some even flowing onto the floor or ceiling with their height. All of the figures were carved in great detail, the weave in the fabric of their clothing or the flow of curls in their hair obviously etched by a careful, observant hand.

  “None of them have eyes,” Sindra said. Her words seemed loud and Derk swore he felt a cool wind blow through the intricately carved passageways. No irises or pupils were carved into their stone faces. The figures depicted carried out their deeds without seeing what they were doing. Yet at the same time the people carved in relief onto the walls seemed to be watching the intruders while their hands worked, bent over bodies, sacrifices, bowls.

  “We should leave this place,” Jezlen said.

  “We’re trying, Jezlen, really we are,” Derk grumbled, pulling ahead of the group and setting a quicker pace, eager to put all of this place behind them.

  More than once Derk found himself reaching for his shortsword. Occasionally he heard the cocking of a crossbow or the stretch of a bowstring from Jezlen or Asa. Yet nothing gave him a reason to draw the entire time they stalked the quiet halls, ascended the silent staircases, passed through the noiseless rooms. They were the only things alive in the entire structure, menaced by the images of speculated horror that adorned the ancient walls. Still, his hand moved to the hilt of his blade.

  There seemed to be no end to the temple, and they had to make camp within its stone walls once again. Derk dreamed of being sacrificed by those beings, smooth cold hands of stone gripping him by his limbs. They carried him to a gate leading to an inky darkness which made his stomach cramp with fear and his brain scream in terror. He was glad to take his watch and the next day found all of them hurrying through the vast temple, eager to put it all behind them.

  After what seemed like two watches of walking a beam of light popped ahead of them. Derk stood up straight as the welcome natural illumination reached his eyes. He could hear Devra gasp with delight behind him and Asa thanked the Goddess for bringing them to the end safely. The group ran toward the exit, almost knocking each other over to get out of the breathless oubliette.

  They squinted in the bright light and grinned at each other as they spilled out of the temple, relieved. White, bright sunlight bathed them all and Derk knelt down on the ground, laying his face on the sparse grass sprouting from the dirt. They were high up though not at an extreme elevation, rolling hills spreading below them. Huddles of farms and the white roof of a church welcomed them from below. Derk blinked a few times and looked out over the land, his lips pressed together as he cocked his head to the side.

  “How fortunate for us,” said Jezlen, looking over the green that lay before them, finally resting his longbow across his back. “We find ourselves above the Moorlands, a good place to be after such an ordeal. We shall find.…”

  Moorlands. Derk went pale and he felt panic rising. Jezlen stopped talking and Devra was asking him questions, clapping her gloved hands excitedly. He felt the sensation of Sindra squeezing his arm but couldn’t react accordingly, only managing to utter a single sentence.

  “You sure you all don’t want to maybe go back through the way we just…came? No?” He hadn’t even managed to say it loud enough for anyone to hear, and his companions were all too excited to be out of the cavern to notice his state. Though his knees were knocking together, he managed to follow the group down, taking the tail end instead of the lead like he usually did. Moorland. Through a lack of luck or by trickery, he was back where he had started.

  CHAPTER 12

  Laid Bare

  Derk drew the razor one last time over his scalp, wincing slightly as it nicked his skin. It wasn’t the first time he had done so, and he imagined his pink scalp was dotted with spots of red blood, noting there was the definite feeling of a trickle on the right side. He ran his free hand over his head, not surprised to find it stained crimson, rinsing his razor and then his hand in the cold water of the stream. Derk dipped his head in the stream, the icy water stinging the cuts but the pain was minor and bearable. Lifting his scalp out from the waterway, water dripping down his face and around his nose, he looked to the priestess who watched him with crossed arms, her lips hidden with dismay. Derk held his arms out to the side, presenting himself to her. “Well? What d’yah think?”

  “I still don’t understand why you have done this,” Sindra said, turning away and walking back the short distance
to the rest of the camp. “You have beautiful hair, or did. You look like a peasant or a prisoner.”

  “Well, for your information, I am a peasant,” he shot, surprised how quickly the words escaped his lips, like a projectile and not a fact. “And high summer is upon us. I’ll be cooler this way.” He closed the razor with a snap, almost cutting his finger on its edge.

  “I agree with the priestess,” said Jezlen, sitting up straight as he spoke. Derk shot Jezlen a look, not remembering asking his opinion. The elf stood up, cocking his head to the side as he inspected the now bald thief, eyes half open. “I believe she is being too kind with her comparisons. You look more like one who is…wrong in the head.” Jezlen pointed to his own head as he said it, nodding as he agreed with himself.

  “Well, if I could think about something mean to say about you right now I’d say it. Except I can’t think of anything at the moment,” Derk snapped, going to his pack and fumbling through it, looking more for something to do than anything in particular. He found himself irritated by the elf’s inspection, looking to Asa and Devra, the girl counting coins and the warrior redressing one of his wounds. “Well, how do I look to a Valleyman’s eye?”

  “Keen. Intense. Skilled.” Asa said. The warrior scratched at the bandage on his shoulder, looking over Derk. “Like…like a hired killer!!”

  “What?” Derk shot. He wasn’t sure if he should be amused or angry.

  “I mean a soldier,” Asa said. “One of the guardsmen. Alert!”

  “What my brother means to say,” said Devra, gathering up the coins and placing them in a small leather pouch, “Is it is a very bold look. Now that your hair isn’t hanging in your face, you can see how blue your eyes are.”