The Portal

by Brock Deskins

  “Droog leave other pack to watch portal. Grunok number two packer leader. He take prisoner any more humans come through gate. He work for Droog. Grunok prisoners is Droog’s prisoners,” the goblin said thumping his chest for emphasis.

  Drew’s hopes fell. He was now very worried about his friends. He was certain Chase would come for him if he could, and he would likely bring the others. Despite Chase’s many faults, he was the most loyal friend Drew had ever heard of. He would jump into any fight to help his friends, no matter what the odds.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  "Droog take you to Master. Master far, long walk, many days. You hope goblins not run out of food,” Droog said slyly with an evil-looking grin.

  This time, Drew recognized the twisted attempt at humor. “Your master sounds very powerful. I bet he is very strong and very scary.”

  “Master very strong—strong magic. All scared of Master. Even big humans scared of Master.”

  “It sounds like he wants me pretty bad. Am I really that important to him?” Drew said, drawing the dimwitted goblin into his trap.

  “Yes, Master say you important. Droog get big reward for capture you,” the goblin beamed, a huge needle-toothed grin spreading across his ugly face.

  “Well then, Droog, you had better make sure nothing happens to me on our little walk. I bet the master would be very angry at whoever was in charge and let me come to any harm. You better hope that thump you gave me did not make me forget anything important,” Drew said, closing the trap, a smirk creeping onto his own face.

  Droog’s smile evaporated from his face in an instant as he realized he had just been tricked and had lost a great deal of influence over the human. He glared at the clever human and stalked off toward the front of his troops, shouting and thumping a couple of them at some perceived slight.

  Drew thought about his friends and what to do if they did come looking for him. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure they would come after him. They probably were not too far behind even now. Even if they had not followed right away and went for help or supplies first, they would not be more than a couple hours behind.

  He imagined Chase jumping through the portal as the others argued about what to do. Chase would not wait very long without very good reason, and any reason anyone would give him he would discredit in short order. His friends might even be following them right now, watching from a distance, and just waiting for a chance to rescue him. While the twins were avid outdoorsman, Drew did not know if they knew how to track animals and follow a trail or not, but he doubted it. They were campers and hikers, not survivalists.

  Drew formulated a plan to help anyone that may be following or looking for him. He picked out a protruding root up ahead and edged toward it as he walked. Instead of stepping over it, he allowed himself to trip and fall heavily with a shout of pain. Droog sprinted back from the front of the column to see what had happened to his prisoner. Fear warred with anger when he saw the sprawled-out human getting unsteadily back to his feet. The human had a scrape on his head since he lacked the use of his hands to break his fall, he but seemed to be otherwise uninjured.

  “Stupid human! You need be dragged again?”

  “No, I’m all right. I just tripped. It’s hard to walk with my hands tied behind my back. Good thing I didn’t hit my head on a rock. The master would be mad if I couldn’t answer his questions.” Drew tried to sound innocent while clearly implying the threat.

  Droog growled out what Drew assumed was a rather vile curse and cut the binding on his wrists, but he rebound them in front of him. “You walk, no run!”

  “No worries there, Droogy. I think I twisted my ankle a bit. But don’t worry, I’ll keep up.”

  Drew did keep pace but dragged his left leg a little, leaving clear marks in the dirt; a trail he hoped even the most unskilled tracker would be able to follow. Drew wondered what he would be able to get away with, and how far he could push the goblins. Well, he would find out before long.

  The goblins force-marched Drew through the woods. They gave him few rest breaks and just enough to eat and drink to keep his strength up for the trek to wherever it was they were going. When they finally called a halt for the night, the goblins spread out a sleeping roll, which they had probably stolen, for him to sleep on. Drew was also provided him with a scratchy wool blanket, both of which Droog informed him was to protect his weak, human flesh. The other goblins simply lay on the cold ground near the fire and covered themselves with a wool blanket or animal hide.

  Droog posted a guards rotating, them out during the night to watch the woods for intruders as well as keeping an eye on their captive. Drew was far from an expert on military-style doctrine or duties, but it was not difficult to see they did so with lackluster diligence. With nothing else to do, Drew studied a small hole in the ground where Droog ordered him to sleep and stay put, spending nearly an hour simply watching large, red ants scurry in and out of the entrance to their underground warren. Some carried dead insects down into the hole, while others carried out grains of sand and dirt that they had excavated from somewhere inside their labyrinth of tunnels.

  The goblins fed him some bread and a few chunks of meat from some mysterious animal. It was a dark meat, so he was not worried it came from anything that had probably been able to talk. It was gamy and chewy, but he forced himself to eat it; he would need the energy and protein it provided when he escaped.

  Droog posted his guards, laid himself down by the fire, and immediately began snoring along with most of the other score of goblins. A few stayed awake for a couple of hours, chattering away in their vulgar language, and taking turns drinking some noxious liquid from a gourd they passed around.

  From the smell and the way it affected the goblins, Drew presumed it was highly intoxicating. The little band of party animals finally passed out and added their own chorus of snores to the rest of the band.

  Drew stayed awake for another hour looking for signs of movement, but the camp lay still with the exception of a glimpse of movement from one of the lazier guards that did not feel like staking his post any further from the camp than necessary. Droog was lying close to him, not wanting to be separated from his prisoner. They bound his feet after he ate, but that was fine. He was not going to try to escape—not tonight anyhow.

  The captive human rolled over toward a pile of logs and branches the goblins had gathered to keep the fire going. One of the guards returned, threw on another log, and returned to his post, so Drew figured he had an hour before he would come back again. He selected a branch an inch or two in diameter and nearly four feet long. He then rolled back over toward the ant colony and Droog. The setup could not be better. Droog was between three and four feet from the entrance to the ant’s lair. He rolled onto his back, lifted the branch, and let it fall with a soft thump right onto the ant hole.

  The soft thud of wood against the dirt failed to disturb any of the sleeping goblins, but it definitely got the attention of the ant colony. Thousands of tiny, red warriors about as long as Drew’s thumbnail (nearly half their length was a set of massive mandibles) swarmed out of the hole, ready to do battle with whatever intruder was foolish enough to have disturbed them. Drew dropped the other end of the branch right behind the sleeping Droog and watched as a steady stream of angry, six-legged, red demons raced along the foreign object near their home to investigate what manner of intruder lay at the other end.

  Once he saw the ants on a full-scale march, Drew rolled away, well out of their path and potential battlefield. The ants of course found the warm-blooded, snoring goblin and postulated that this must be the source of the attack. The ants crawled over the slumbering form, under his blanket, and under his clothes to locate the relatively soft flesh beneath. Once they determined their numbers to be sufficient for the task (Drew estimated it to be at least several hundred), an inaudible order was issued and every ant unleashed their fury in a simultaneous assault.

  Droog’s eyes flew open as
hundreds of angry ants used their huge mandibles to deliver painful, stinging bites into his soft flesh and rudely cut short his slumber. The assailed goblin flung away his tattered blanket and flew up into the air with a hellacious shriek that sent shivers across Drew’s skin.

  Gravity quickly seized the goblin that seemed intent on trying to break free of its grasp and pulled him back down to the earth where he belonged. Droog began rolling and slapping furiously as every goblin in the camp snapped awake and stared at the screeching, flailing pack leader. Even the sentries raced back and were mesmerized by the convulsive actions and just stood by, mouths agape, as the stricken goblin mindlessly thrashed about then rolled through the fire.

  The flames added another source of torment to the already embattled and beleaguered Droog, but they did seem to provide some aid against the tiny denizens that had declared a full-scale war on the goblin. It also provided the audience of goblins a source of uproarious comedy, and they immediately burst into gales of uncontrollable laughter as they watched their leader rolling about the ground in an attempt to crush the ants as well as smother the flames.

  Droog successfully rolled the fire out, stood up, slapped at the occasional ant he found bravely trying to chew through his flesh, stripped completely naked, and finally managed to scrape off the last of the biting insects. He picked through his clothing, and declaring it free from infestation, thankfully donned them once again.

  Drew lay near the fire, trying to suppress his own laughter at the goblin’s plight, never having moved an inch during the entire debacle.

  Droog glared daggers at the human, certain that he had something to do with his torment. Wizards were crafty like that, but he knew he could do nothing to prove it. Even if he could, he had very few options for reprisal. The ant attack was nothing compared to what Lord Darkrell would inflict upon him if his prisoner were not delivered alive and well.

  The bites burned and itched like mad, and the fire had scorched several square inches of his arms, legs, and face. Droog failed to get any more sleep that night. Drew, on the other hand, slept soundly once he was able to stop snickering at the scenes that kept playing through his mind.

  The sounds of activity in the camp woke Josh. It was still dark, and although the stars were still visible, Josh could see that the sky to the east was a deep blue under the blackness of the starry dome overhead. He pulled his clothes on and roused the rest of his crew. They emerged from their tents and stepped out into the brisk, early morning air tinged with the scent of burning wood and boiling oats.

  “Good morn to you, my young friends,” Elderin greeted them warmly. “I hope you are ready to begin your training.”

  “Ready or not, here we are.” Josh answered the druid.

  “I understand,” Elderin chuckled and nodded. “I imagine this must be all very frightening to you and your friends. Take comfort in the fact that you are not the first of your world to visit our own.”

  “We’re not? Oh, of course not. Otherwise we would not have had the book or the ability to even come here.”

  Elderin nodded and smiled. “A very astute observation, young man. It is true that you are the first visitors to grace us in a very long time. I imagine it has been at least five hundred years since someone last opened a gate joining our two worlds. You know, my own great ancestor came from your world.”

  “Really?” the teen asked in astonishment.

  “Oh yes. My great ancestor was a druid who opened a gate at a place called Stonehenge many hundreds of our years ago. In fact, he was one of the last to travel between worlds. He came to study under the wise tutelage of the druids of this world. He enjoyed it so much, he never returned. So, let us break our fast and get started then.”

  The party ate a bland but filling bowl of boiled oats and goat’s milk. Once they were finished, the rangers separated them into groups to begin their training. Elderin addressed his assembly and told them what was to be expected of them.

  “I have spoken to each of you this past night in order to determine where your natural skills and aptitudes lie so as to devise a training strategy that best suites you. Phil and Felicia will join Rangers Brody and Lucas,” he pointed to two armed men, one of which was the ranger that had made sketches of their bows and tents. “Chase will go with Ranger Samone.”

  “What? That sounds like a girl’s name,” Chase exclaimed.

  He found the back of a blade suddenly pressed against his soft neck as a feminine voice whispered in his ear. “It is a girl’s name. Is that a problem?”

  “Um, nope, no problem, none at all,” Chase gulped and stammered as a small, slender, dark-haired young woman gracefully and silently circled around to face him, laughing quietly at his surprise.

  “Josh and Chuck will go with Rangers Jeffery and Bronk,” Elderin continued, “while young masters Theodore and Gabriel will stay with me. I do not know how much we can teach you in such the short amount of time available to us, but we will do everything we can to ensure your best chances for success. The rest will be up to you all. Pay attention, study hard, listen to your teachers, and may the gods smile upon you.”

  “Come on, handsome, follow me,” Samone told Chase as she walked seductively (in his hormone-addled teenage mind) into the forest beyond the clearing.

  Samone was perhaps twenty-three, and very attractive. Her dark tresses were cut short just above her shoulders, which accentuated her face. Her eyes were large and blue, set slightly wide above a pert nose resting between her prominent cheekbones. Her face tapered quickly to a fine-boned chin just below her full lips.

  “To the ends of the earth and beyond,” Chase whispered quietly.

  Chase followed Samone through the trees but lost sight of her after she ducked behind a particularly large tree trunk. He circled around the tree just seconds after she had vanished and paused trying to catch another glimpse of her curvaceous form, but she had disappeared.

  “Samone?” he called out quietly.

  Only the wind whispering through the treetops answered him. He took a few tentative steps forward and paused to listen and look again.

  “Samone?” he hissed out again, unnerved by the silence and solitude of the empty forest around him.

  “Looking for me, handsome?” Samone’s voice came as a whispered breath on the back of his neck.

  Chase let out a short cry of alarm and spun around to face the laughing young woman.

  “I was told you were sneaky but untrained. It looks like they got the untrained part right. I am going to teach you how to move unseen, unheard, and disappear right in front of a person’s eyes. Also, how to appropriate things you need from people who apparently do not find them valuable enough to guard properly,” she told Chase as she waved two of the daggers he had been carrying in front of his face.

  “How did you do that, and how did you vanish like that and not make any sound when you snuck up on me?” Chase asked in astonishment.

  “That is what I am here to teach you. The trick to vanishing is blending in with your surroundings and not letting anyone see you when you do. When going from a position of visibility to one of concealment, you must try to time it so you move when the person or people you are trying to hide from are not looking,” she instructed, sounding much more like a teacher now than the flirtatious imp she had been previously. “You must take advantage of even the slightest moment of distraction—look out!” she shouted and dove to the side.

  Chase reacted instinctively, dove in the opposite direction, tumbled twice, and popped up in a crouch, hands spread before him ready for action. He looked around but failed to see whatever imminent danger had arisen. He also could not see Samone anymore. The small clearing they were in was empty.

  Samone’s instruction continued from just behind him. “Every step you take, you need to be looking out for ambush sites, traps, routes of escape, and places to hide. You also need to be alert for anyone trying to sneak up on you.”

  “But you are so quiet! I can’t hear you or s
ee you.”

  “That is only because you are limiting yourself to two of your six senses. There are far more ways to detect someone than seeing or hearing. You must look and listen at all times, but do not discount your nose, tongue, or the hairs on your body.”

  “My tongue and hair?”

  “People and animals all have a scent. Goblins and their kin are especially malodorous. When you breathe, do not do so just to fill your lungs. Run the air through your nose and across your tongue. Try to smell and taste what is in the air.”

  Chase breathed in a lungful of air through his nose, and he could indeed detect Samone’s musky scent along with a sweeter scent of what was probably flower petals crushed and mixed with light oil. The soft sweet scent left a slightly bitter taste on his tongue.

  “You must also pay attention to the wind and air currents around you,” she continued. “Every object disrupts and changes the flow of air. I recommend that you wear sleeveless jerkins and armor to allow the hairs on your arms to detect those changes, or at least roll them up to expose your forearms. Those are some of the most sensitive spots on your body and it will warn you of any changes in the air. Pay attention to the tingling you get at the back of your neck. Not only could it be a disturbance in the air, but another sort of sense altogether, warning you of impending danger.”

  Chase rolled his sleeves up above the elbow and felt for the subtle shifts in the air as Samone lectured and paced about him.

  “The sixth method, or sense of detection, is up here and in here,” she told him as she tapped a slender finger against her head then just above her left breast. “Do not ever ignore your instincts. Paranoid people tend to live longer. If you believe someone is watching you, they probably are, particularly in your case. If Lord Darkrell discovers you are trying to steal away what he has stolen, you can count on being followed, watched, and attacked. Your job is also to look out for traps.” The ranger surprised him by pushing him backward.