Through the Dark Wood

by Geno Allen

  Zam peered forward. For being ruins, it seems strong and fortified.

  Raim Sabbar called out loudly, “Raim Sabbar, the Tal'kyon of Tangleweave, desires to take counsel with the lord and lady of Vandaris! Friends I did bear here who seek audience as well! One has just been taken by your guard! One I bear still! May we enter?”

  There was a brief silence, and then the gates began to open and an odd, almost raspy but kind voice filtered through the dust that fell from the long unused gates. “Long has it been since you have graced our doors, Raim Sabbar. Your friend taken will not be harmed. You and the one you bear may enter.” The vines that had reached for them receded into the darkness, and Raim Sabbar no longer used his wings to shield Zam. As the doors opened fully and they passed through, he looked back at Zam. “See? They are friends.”

  Zam nodded, still feeling unsure.

  The gates and outer walls had seemed strong and imposing, but it appeared very much like ruins inside. The courtyard into which they passed was filled with the rubble of broken walls, remnants of a stable whose use was long forgotten, and webs everywhere: not cobwebs as you would expect in such a place, but large, clean, impressive webs. Caught in them were birds, some sort of rodents and, in one of the largest, a dead Farrix. Zam gasped. “What web could hold fast such a beast?”

  “Shh, Windwater,” Raim Sabbar said quietly. “The time for answers will come, but for now–”

  Zam gasped again, at the remains of a man, long dead, locked in one of the webs.

  Raim Sabbar noticed it as well and whispered, “For now, let silence be your ally. Something seems out of place.”

  Zam nodded, and continued looking about. What sort of place has Raim Sabbar taken us?

  Where doorways once led into the main structure, the openings had collapsed. Even little Tearis would have difficulty passing through what openings remained. Farther into the courtyard and around one side of the outpost, two thrones stood atop a dais. Torches were lit at either side, illuminating the area. Before the thrones a wide circle of tightly joined stones carved with all manner of symbols from the ancient world formed a presenting area.

  This was where the kings of old met with their people when spending a season in Vandaris, and it was here that Raim Sabbar would introduce his new friend to his old ones. The thrones appeared empty to Zam, but as they approached he heard a voice similar to the first, but feminine. “Raim Sabbar, old friend, allow the young one to approach on his own. If he is the one I believe him to be, we must meet face to face and I must search him.”

  Raim Sabbar held back a moment, unsure of her intent, before reluctantly conceding. “Very well, Noralie.” He motioned to Zam. “Do as she says, Windwater.”

  Zam climbed down and whispered, “Is it safe, Raim Sabbar?”

  Raim Sabbar was beginning to wonder himself.

  Noralie replied. “I have quite good hearing, young one. It is safe if you are true. But if you are false, you have my word, meeting me will not be safe.”

  Raim Sabbar didn’t like the tone of his old friend. “Noralie, no harm is to come this one, no matter what you perceive in him. I am pledged to protect him, and though our friendship is of old, I would sooner break that bond than fail in his protection.”

  “How will you protect him in my home if I find him false, Raim Sabbar?”

  Raim Sabbar stiffened at her callous tone, and Zam was growing uncomfortable with the tension building between him and the voice in the dark.

  The voice spoke again. “You are strong, old friend, but if I unleash all I have upon you and the boy, I ask again, how will you protect him?” With those words vines like the ones at the gate shot from above toward Zam.

  Raim Sabbar grabbed him, placed him on his back and covered him with his wings again. “Noralie! Bondur!” His voice was thunderous. His eyes narrowed as he faced the vines and unleashed an inferno that sent them writhing to the ground—flames flickering until ash was all that remained. Zam cowered beneath Raim Sabbar's wings. Despite his own danger, he wondered where Griss was and whether he was safe.

  Raim Sabbar turned, lit the surrounding brush on fire and shouted toward the thrones, “Old friends, if you attempt to harm this one, I will raze these ruins to the ground!”

  The yet un-singed vines receded again, and Noralie’s voice rang out clear and joyous. “My good friend, Raim Sabbar, you’re awake! Fully Awake!”

  Zam heard the change in tone, and it rang true to his heart. He looked up to see two largish spider creatures descending toward the thrones.

  The male spoke. “And it’s right good you were. You might want to put those flames out.”

  Raim Sabbar was taken aback.

  Noralie spoke again. “We are sorry, old friend and new friend... Windwater is it?”

  Zam nodded warily.

  “We had received word at the School of Trees that you had begun to drift into sleep. We feared that more than anything you can imagine. Raurelin Seer and Etomeia have both drifted. You are the last Tal’kyon, Raim Sabbar... the last dragon foe.”

  The surrounding flames winked out as sorrow welled up in Raim Sabbar, and he suddenly understood. “Had I allowed you to search young Windwater here, find fault with him, and prove yourself unsafe, you would have known I was nearly asleep... for a Tal’kyon awake would never allow such a thing.” It made sense.

  Zam sat upright on Raim Sabbar’s back.

  Bondur rejoined the conversation. “As you know, few things will awaken a Tal'kyon, so either the report was false, or something tremendous was on the verge of happening.”

  Zam wondered what that could be.

  Noralie continued. “I apologize to you in particular, young one, for the fear I must have caused.”

  Zam spoke directly to her. “I was afraid, but I understand what you were doing. If Raim Sabbar were to pass into sleep, I believe it would be a grave loss to this land. You needed to search him, and I was your means to do so.”

  “There is wisdom in this one, yes, Father?” she said, turning to Bondur.

  “Yes, Mother.”

  As Zam watched he was at once enthralled with these beings. He had never heard of a talking spider before, nor seen spiders so large. Their size was startling. In fact their heads alone were the size of Zam’s fist, the male’s slightly smaller.

  Zam would not have expected to find beauty in such creatures, but the female, Noralie, was the most beautiful shade of teal he had ever seen, fading to a color somewhere between black and indigo at her joints. Her face and the forward portions of her body were a blazing yellow, flecked here and there with orange. The bulbous portion of her was almost violet where it met the yellow, then faded to indigo and then to black farther toward the back. She hung a few feet above the left throne, suspended from a web that was the purest white Zam had ever seen.

  Bondur was rather drab by comparison. Where Noralie was smooth as polished glass, he was covered in coarse hair—brown from end to end. Only his web was remarkable. Unlike his mate’s, his web was filled with nearly every color one could think of. As the fire flickered it caught one color then another.

  Zam was amazed. He left Raim Sabbar and approached them. “I sense, Noralie, that you still mean to search me. I welcome it. Raim Sabbar has brought me here to seek your help, but what help you may give, I must confess, I cannot begin to guess.”

  Noralie smiled, Zam thought. He would not have guessed a spider capable of smiling, nor of having so pleasant a face. But truly she had the most pleasant face one could hope to see on a spider, and Bondur, though more solemn, was quite pleasant as well. She said, “Come up on the dais, young one, and let me have a look at you.”

  He approached the throne and stopped less than three feet from Noralie, whose eight eyes looked unwaveringly at him. He felt that she, like Raim Sabbar and Graffeon, could see more deeply into him than even he could.

  “I see why you welcomed my searching you, Windwater,” she said at length. “You are true of heart. As to the help we may giv
e, first I have a question.”

  She lowered herself to the throne and walked delicately to the edge of it. “A moment ago I referred to Raim Sabbar as the last dragon foe, but perhaps I spoke untrue. Are you he who has slain the dark dragon Crimthorn?”

  Zam had not thought of himself as a dragon foe, but nonetheless he replied, “I am. Crimthorn held prisoner a child that I cherish. The beast intended her for a meal. I did what needed to be done.”

  “Indeed you did.” Noralie bowed slightly to him. “The School of Trees shared with Bondur and I that a young man, hardly a warrior, had ended the dragon, and we were much impressed.”

  Zam was unsure how to accept her praise. “Thank you.” He said timidly and she continued.

  “That Raim Sabbar brought you to us led me first to believe you were he—otherwise our dear friend truly was drifting and you were a Seritheen who had fooled him—but in searching you, I am assured that you are the dragon foe.” She looked at him deeper still. “But there is more….”

  Zam wondered that she thought he might have been a Seritheen. The thought brought to mind Rivelin’s First and that in turn made him think of Griss. “Griss! Oh! My Lady Noralie and Lord Bondur, our friend Griss... is he well?”

  Raim Sabbar shook his sorrow off long enough to ask, “Yes, what has become of him?”

  “Ah, yes,” Bondur said.

  Just then a large vine-covered mass lowered from the canopy above. As the vines pulled back, Griss was revealed clutching the hilt of his sword ready to draw. He looked around, assessed the situation, let loose his hilt and bowed to the spiders. “You must be Noralie and Bondur. Not the welcome I had anticipated, but I see we are at peace. A pleasure to meet you both. I am Griss Corwise, friend to Raim Sabbar.”

  Bondur greeted him. “Yes. Much we have heard of you from the School of Trees, good-hearted warrior Griss.”

  Noralie continued. “We apologize for your captivity. The trees here serve as our guardians. They know Raim Sabbar, but are instructed to take any man captive.”

  “I humbly accept your apology,” Griss said with a bow.

  Noralie returned the bow. “Of late, many evil men have sought us out. But if the trees speak true, the young one's defeat of Crimthorn has dispersed the Seritheen and they now have more pressing concerns than sending men to destroy the School.”

  As Zam listened, he realized he had not actually introduced himself yet. “Your pardon, Noralie, Bondur, I have yet to properly introduce myself. I am Zamuel Windwater. Those who would be my friend, save Raim Sabbar, call me Zam.”

  Bondur descended to his throne and walked to its edge. He extended his front leg as if to offer a hand. “The pleasure is ours, Zam.” Zam took the end of the leg and shook. A gratified look crossed Bondur’s face.

  Noralie spoke up again. “Indeed, Zam. It is a pleasure, and as I said, your defeat of the dragon has awakened hope in this corner of Darlandis. For that we are grateful.”

  Bondur turned to Raim Sabbar. “You three have had a long day, I suppose. Perhaps you would like to eat and turn in? We can discuss the help we may provide in the morning.”

  Griss responded. “I cannot speak for the others, but I am weary. Food and rest would do me good.”

  Zam agreed. With the excitement over and the travel weighing on him, he realized how deeply exhausted he felt. “The road does weary one. I too could use rest.”

  Noralie motioned toward the outpost’s second story. There, tree branches parted and a light shone through a window. “When you left the wall of Ellerion, we received word. We hoped your destination was Vandaris, and in case you proved to be the slayer of Crimthorn, we prepared a room for you. You will find fruit inside that I hope is to your liking.”

  “Our thanks to you,” Griss said as he turned toward the wall. Zam turned to follow.

  “A moment…” Noralie said. “Griss, you may go if you desire, but Zam I will need a moment longer.”

  Griss looked at Zam and Raim Sabbar. “I shall remain with my friends.”

  “As I expected you would, good warrior.” Noralie bowed her head to Griss, who returned the gesture. She looked at Zam. “Please turn your back to me and stand directly before my throne.”

  The darkness of the evening, as well as the dead things hanging in all the surrounding webs, lent to a growing doubt. Perhaps it was his exhaustion, but Zam half-expected to feel a sudden bite, then slowly fall away from life. He did as she asked.

  “There is no need for fear, young one.” Noralie placed her forelegs on Zam’s back. They felt heavy, but he soon realized it was because she followed them with the next and the next until she was standing fully on his lower back. He stiffened and she crawled around a bit from lower back to shoulders. Finally she edged herself between his arm and his side. “Arms up.” He lifted his arms and she proceeded around to his front, crawling all about on his torso.

  Looking down as she moved around proved a mistake. A small spider so close looks large. A spider the size of Noralie so close is positively frightening no matter how kindly her face. Zam closed his eyes.

  Seeing this large spider climb about on their new friend was an uncomfortable sight to Griss. At her widest stance Noralie reached from shoulder to shoulder on Zam. She took the tiniest of steps, hundreds of them it seemed, to simply make her way from side to side. She was muttering something to herself as she moved.

  Griss caught Zam's gaze when he opened his eyes again. He seemed a cross between very much afraid and very much confused. Noralie continued around his other side, and paused on his back, moving halfway over his shoulder and reaching a few of her legs out along his arm. She repeated this for his other arm, then climbed back onto her throne.

  Zam looked at Raim Sabbar, who smiled at him. It was a weak smile for all the sorrow he felt, but it did make Zam feel better. He was relieved that Noralie had finished, and was about to walk back to the others when Bondur said, “Now for me, Lad,” and fairly well leapt onto his shoulder. His landing startled Zam and made him jump so that Bondur wound up dangling from one of Zam's elbows by a web.

  “I didn’t expect that you’d jump, Zam.” He chuckled. “Lost my footing.” The large kindly spider dangling from his arm with an awkward and embarrassed look on his face was a comical sight that drove all fear from Zam. Bondur lowered himself to the ground and climbed up Zam's leg to his shoulder.

  “Got a better measurement this way anyhow. Now hold your head still.” Bondur climbed to the back of Zam’s neck, reached four of his forelegs up and felt all around Zam's head. It tickled, and something about Bondur’s manner made the whole situation comical as well.

  At last Bondur said, “Now if you’d raise your arm for me.” Zam did and Bondur clipped the web loose from his elbow. “Wouldn’t want that dangling there forever, would we?” He jumped from Zam to his throne. “I’m done. You may turn in if you wish, and thank you, Zam, for your patience.”

  Zam was confused. Bondur noticed and added. “We’ll talk more tomorrow. Try the fruit—it’s quite good—and then get some sleep.”

  Griss bowed to the spiders and headed for the ladder. Zam followed. As he began climbing, he looked back to Raim Sabbar. Sadness overwhelmed every other feeling. Zam was concerned in his heart for his friend.

  Raim Sabbar caught his gaze. “I will stay here and take counsel with my old friends, Zam. I will be well. And it is well beside for I would not fit through that window, nor the door were it available.” He smiled a half-hearted smile and Zam continued up the ladder.

  Before passing through the window Zam looked once more to his Tal'kyon friend. “Sleep well, Raim Sabbar.” Then, assessing the sorrow in his eyes, he added, “But only through the night.”

  Raim Sabbar bowed his head to Zam and turned back to the spiders, who had left their thrones and were now standing near him, awaiting his tale. “The trees were not wrong,” he said. “I was drifting into sleep. It was Griss and Windwater who kept me awake, and if what you say of my kin is true, I am afraid, friends.
”

  Once through the window, Zam could no longer hear Raim Sabbar’s words. He looked about the room. It was more beautiful and ornate than anything he'd ever seen.

  Griss was already seated near a small table that held a bowl of fruit. “Not my usual fare, but it is pleasant to taste.”

  Zam continued looking around. Nearly everything was cast in gold: the bed, the table, and the intricate designs around the walls and ceiling. The bedding was scarlet and purple. Even the bowl that held the fruit was made from some precious metal. Everything was perfectly clean, and candlelight danced upon every bit of the room, adding to its splendor. “This was one of the kings’ rooms,” Zam said with awe.

  Griss saw how the room had captured Zam’s imagination. “It probably was, but don’t become too enamored of such beauty. Folly follows those who love beauty too much.”

  Zam felt the truth of those words, but still found his surroundings most appealing. He took some of the fruit and ate. Griss was a very quiet man. Zam wondered what sort of things he thought about during his silent times, and he thought again of his new friend Raim Sabbar, as well as the awful news he had received. “Griss, did you hear when Noralie told Raim Sabbar that he was the last Tal’kyon?”

  Griss looked up from his ponderings. “No... I did not hear that.” He sighed. “Oh, Raim Sabbar, my friend, what is to become of you?” He closed his eyes in a solemn moment, then turned to Zam. “He was drifting when I found him to bring him to you, but he is awake now. However, fear and sadness may lead him that way again. Though he is strong, brave, old, and wise, we will have to watch over him, find ways to keep his spirits up.” Griss paused for a long moment, frowned, and sighed. “I must sleep on this. Thank you for the news, Zam. You may have the bed. I will take the floor. Sleep well.”

  “And you.”

  Griss lay down and closed his eyes. Zam finished his fruit and lay upon the bed. It was the most comfortable thing he had ever felt. It wrapped around him like a warm fog. As he lay there, his mind passed from Tearis to Raine to Raim Sabbar and then to Elyon—he who had sent him on this quest. What can be done for Raim Sabbar, Elyon? What can I do? With that question brewing in his mind, he left the waking world behind....