Many Hidden Rooms

by S. J. Varengo

  Russa looked at her, shock painting her face.

  Cerah kissed the beautiful wizard’s tear stained cheek, then ran to find Kern. “Ready the remaining riders. We have lost Roo and Armethia. As soon as the wizards bring news of the location of Surok, we move.”

  She instructed one of Slurr’s captains to ready the army, then she climbed on Tressida’s back and flew off. Once she was far enough away from the others she asked the golden dragon to land. She jumped off of her back and dropped to her knees upon the ground. She closed her eyes. She turned her sight within herself and found the Greater Spark. It blazed.

  “Great Father, Ma’uzzi,” she said. “I thank you for your gift. This Spark sustains me. Strengthen me now. I need you as I have never needed anything before. I know my husband lives. I know you will bring him again to my side. But I have failed you. Again and again I have been overconfident and have underestimated the guile and the evil of Surok. It has cost lives and has loosed his heinous horde upon your life. Surok must be stopped, and I cannot tarry. I place my life in your hands.”

  And then she continued to kneel silently, waiting. By her side, the great golden queen lowered her head, hearing Cerah’s prayer. Tressida did not know why Cerah tarried, but she was not about to leave her.

  Suddenly, Cerah was overcome by an unseen presence. It was unlike anything she had ever felt in her life. It was as though she was wrapped in a blanket of pure light and warmth. It surrounded not only her body, but her entire essence. As she waited on her knees, all the guilt and sorrow that had gripped her heart melted away. Then they both heard an audible voice. Its sound was sweet and pure, and it flowed with love, compassion and forgiveness.

  “I will never leave you or forsake you,” it said.

  Cerah wept the tears of a newborn.

  Part II

  Black Sails

  Chapter 12

  Searching

  Yarren held little hope of seeing any tracks from Slurr’s brave march. The newly fallen snow was deep, upwards of three feet in places, and the whipping winds had further obscured any trace of the young general’s passing. Neither had he seen any snow beasts, this to his satisfaction. Bringing one of the enormous animals down with a party of two hundred spear carriers was a challenge, so savage were they. To face one with only his dragon’s claws and the magic of his staff was an encounter he hoped to avoid.

  He had dropped down from Valosa’s back and slogged alongside the mighty dragon through the drifts, which in this part of the hills rose to his waistline.

  “Val, my soul aches,” he said to his match-mate. The dragon chirped sadly in response and lowered his head to nuzzle against Yarren. The wizard smiled weakly and patted Valosa’s neck, appreciative of the gesture of compassion. “I do not know where else to look. We have trudged over every inch of these hills and have seen nothing that would indicate Slurr was here, not even one of his curly blonde hairs!”

  As he spoke, the dragon suddenly lifted his head. Yarren turned to look at Valosa and saw that he was sniffing the air.

  “What is it, Val? Do you smell something? Is it Slurr?”

  The dragon did not acknowledge Yarren’s queries, instead trudging forward. He approached a drift, lowering his snout to the snow. He continued to sniff for a moment, then began poking his face into the bank. Twice, three times, a fourth he plunged into the freezing pile. The last time he came out, he seemed perplexed. Clearly, he had picked up some sort of scent. The dragon was unable to indicate what he was smelling. Only Cerah’s golden queen dragon Tressida could communicate with her match-mate. In the long history of wizard and dragon matching they were the first pair to be able to speak telepathically to one another. Yarren wished now that Valosa had that ability, as he didn’t know if it was Slurr or a snow beast that Valosa was tracking.

  Valosa plunged into the drift again, and this time when he did, Yarren saw a minute patch of green exposed by the dragon’s burrowing. He ran, such as he could, through the deep snow and reached for the anomalous shred of color. Nothing in this land was green. What could it be? He grabbed at it and pulled. To his amazement, he held a shapeless green felt hat.

  “It’s Slurr’s!” he shouted. “It’s his ridiculous green hat that Cerah kept telling him to throw away! Val, he may be near! Let’s keep looking!”

  Four days prior, Slurr had awoken to a scene of unimaginable horror. He was in a small grotto. It didn’t appear to be a naturally occurring depression, rather looking as though it had been carved into a large mound of snow and ice. Around him, piled haphazardly in the cramped space, lay dozens of human corpses. Indeed, several bodies were heaped on top of him, such that his legs and lower torso were trapped beneath them.

  His head hurt very badly. He reached up and touched it. When he pulled his hand away, he saw a smear of dark blood. Apparently, he had suffered an injury, but the wound had begun to heal. The blood was not fresh. He tried to remember what had happened, to gain some insight into how he found himself in this predicament.

  He recalled hiking into the storm that blanketed the western hills, looking for a trace of Yarren’s hunting party. Of the five sets of hills in which his men had hunted, the westernmost were the largest. He had covered a great deal of terrain without seeing any indications that they had been this way. Slurr knew that Yarren was a gifted wizard and would do everything in his power to get his men to safety. But the storm was outrageous, and even a strong wizard and his dragon could be overcome in such conditions. Not to mention the human warriors, who were even less hardy and far more susceptible to the foul weather.

  After several days, during which the gale force winds never slackened, Slurr had come across a suspicious looking mound in the snow. The sight of it made his heart pound. It was at the base of a rather steep area, which rose about fifteen feet high, and curled back over the mound at the top of the rise. Slurr plunged his bare hands into the knoll, fearful of what, or who, he might find buried there. His luck had been bad thus far during the search, and it did not get better now. For as he plowed through the snow, a large chunk of ice on the overhang above him became dislodged by the wind. It fell and struck Slurr hard on the head, just as he realized there was nothing buried in the snow. That was the last thing he remembered.

  Now he was here, among the dead. He did not immediately recognize any of the frozen faces, but he knew who they were. During the march across the ice to Mount Opatta, and indeed during the climb, many warriors fell, succumbing to the bitter cold coupled, in many cases, with constitutions which had already been compromised during the cramped sea voyage. These bodies were some of the lost men and women. It didn’t take Slurr long to realize how they came to be stacked here, and indeed what manner of place this was. The bodies had been collected by a snow beast, and this was its den.

  When the chunk of ice had knocked Slurr unconscious, one of the fearsome creatures must have come across his lifeless body and assumed he was another casualty. Slurr could only assume the monster was filling its stores with food.

  There was no telling how long it would be before the great white beast returned. Getting out before it did was the obvious course of action, but as Slurr began to try to free himself, he quickly realized that a hasty departure was not likely. He did not know how long he’d been inside the grotto, but it must have been some time. He was very weak and, as his sore head further cleared, he realized he was both very hungry and as thirsty as he’d ever been in his life. What I wouldn’t give for Tressida to be here right now. A little breath of fire and I could have something to drink. There’s certainly enough ice around, but nothing to melt it! he thought. But Cerah’s fire-breathing queen was not here. He’d have to find another solution.

  He looked again at the macabre sight of the bodies that were piled on top of him, covering his lower half. In his diminished condition, he found that moving them off was very difficult. As near as he could tell, he was beneath four of his fallen comrades. Unfortunately, the top most body was that of a rather heavyset man.
It took Slurr a full ten minutes to push and shift him so the warrior’s weight was no longer bearing down on him. With a final shove, the body rolled off the pile and lay alone on the ground.

  The next corpse, much to Slurr’s dismay, was that of a young boy. Free People of all ages had joined the Army of Quadar, eager to stop the evil being whose magic had been wiping out entire cities and kidnapping all of their residents. Very few were turned away, though Slurr insisted that the youngest warriors could be no less than fourteen. This poor lad could have been no more than that. Slurr had a much easier time moving him, but his heart ached as he did so.

  After moving the first two bodies, Slurr rested. The effort of freeing himself was insanely taxing, so feeble was his condition. He was aware that every minute he spent in this hollow decreased his chances of getting away before the snow beast returned, but he was simply unable to continue. The final two cadavers were on his legs. He tried kicking, but their weight was too great to allow him to do so. As he gave a push to the warrior on top, he became aware that the two corpses appeared to be frozen together, further complicating matters. He’d had everything he could do to get the first two off him, moving them one at a time. How would he ever propel two at once?

  As he was pondering this, Slurr heard a noise outside the opening of the grotto. He knew that if this was the snow beast returning, there was no possibility of fighting his way out. It took, on average, ten to twenty men working together to bring one of the huge creatures down, though he’d sent them in much larger parties, so that no one had to face the beast for long. He was still trapped beneath two bodies and was weakened almost to the point of paralysis. As he quickly weighed all of his options, Slurr realized his best chance was to play dead, and hope that the beast, if it was hungry, didn’t select him for his meal.

  Turning his head toward the entrance, he closed his eyes, leaving one opened ever so slightly so that he could see what manner of creature was coming. A moment later, his fears were realized as a snow beast, as big as any he had seen since landing on this forsaken place, poked its head inside the grotto. It looked around, then stepped inside. The beast had to crouch to fit as it moved toward the pile of dead humans in which Slurr was trapped.

  Through his barely opened eyelids, Slurr saw the beast look at the body that he had been able to roll off. The frozen carcass lay alone on the floor beside the heap. The beast moved its head near the body and sniffed it. Apparently satisfied that it was indeed dead, the monster kicked it closer to the pile. It then reached its muscular arm out of the grotto’s opening and pulled yet another dead warrior inside. It lifted the corpse with one hand, as though it were a ragdoll, and tossed it atop the pile. In perhaps the first trickle of good luck Slurr had since walking into the storm, it did not land on top of him, but settled to his left.

  Its work done, the beast sat for a moment on its haunches. Slurr still watched it, continuing to lie motionless, no more than three feet from the horrid creature. As he peered at it, the snow beast reached down to the large fellow that Slurr had dislodged from himself and, in a single, violent motion, tore off the man’s arm. As he looked on in horror, Slurr saw the beast take a large bite from the frozen appendage, its jagged teeth tearing through both flesh and bone. The crunching sound as it chewed made Slurr’s stomach flip in revulsion. Had it not been empty, Slurr was sure he would have vomited. Even still, he had to put down the urge to retch as the monster took a second bite.

  This went on for about five minutes, although to Slurr it seemed like a lifetime. Finally, the beast popped the last bit into its cruel mouth. After swallowing, it let out a vulgar belch. Slurr again had to put down the urge to gag.

  At last, the monster stood. It looked once more at its supply of food. Apparently satisfied, it turned and, lowering its towering head, stepped outside.

  Slurr waited for fifteen minutes or so, making sure that the creature did not return, then began frantically trying to free himself. The only positive thing about the return of the snow beast was that it had afforded him a protracted rest. Now, feeling minutely revived, he redoubled his efforts. The two warriors that were stuck together were of average build, but the fact that he had to move both as a single unit made the task extremely difficult. He pushed against them with all his might but could do no more than rock them slightly.

  Slurr stopped trying to move the bodies and felt a wave of resignation and defeat wash over him. After all I’ve been through, am I to die here of thirst and starvation because I am too weak to wriggle out of this pile of death? Or worse, be eaten alive by the snow beast should it discover that I still have a pulse? How much more appetizing will I be than the frozen meals it’s been consuming! Slurr pounded his fist against himself in frustration, and when he did he realized that Gorshinda, the sword forged for him by the Riddue craftsman Zayan, was still at his side. With considerable effort, he drew it from its sheath.

  Slurr’s first notion was to hack at the bodies that held him in place, but he decided that hitting the sword against the rock-hard corpses was not the best plan. Gorrium is a remarkable metal, he thought. It is incredibly lightweight, but stronger than any steel. Perhaps, just perhaps… Carefully, he wedged the sword under the lower of the two bodies and attempted to use it as a lever. Working with every trace of strength that remained, he began to feel the corpses move. As he strained even more, he let out a loud groan of effort.

  Immediately he regretted it, for outside the grotto he again heard movement. His noises of exertion had caught the ear of the snow beast, and now it was returning. It would kill him effortlessly. Just as it seemed he might free himself, he had instead triggered his doom! He set the sword down and lay motionless in a last-ditch effort to remain undetected, though he knew it was in vain. He saw a shadow pass over the opening to the grotto.

  Just as the last trace of hope left him, Slurr was shocked to see not the snow beast, but Yarren poke his head through the door.

  “Ahh! Great Ma’uzzi! Yarren, it’s you!” he cried out.

  The wizard, seeing the pile of bodies, did not immediately notice Slurr and was badly shaken by a voice calling his name from amid the dead. He jumped in fright, lifting his staff to send a bolt of fire in the direction of whatever manner of specter was speaking. But then his eyes adjusted better to the dim light of the grotto, and he saw two arms waving frantically at him.

  “General? Is it you?”

  “You’ve found me! I thought I was lost for sure. Hurry. I’m trapped beneath some of our fallen warriors. I’m so weak that I can’t move them.”

  Yarren rushed to where Slurr lay and began tugging at the bodies as Slurr once again wedged his sword and pried at them. After a moment’s struggle, the young man was free.

  As the wizard helped him rise, Slurr stood on his unsteady legs, then grabbed Yarren in a grateful embrace. “Yarren, in my life I have not experienced a great deal of friendship. Only Kern has treated me with kindness. I have liked you from the day we met, but from this day forward I shall consider you among my closest friends. You have saved my life, and I will never forget it!”

  “Had I returned to the Chosen One without you, although she may have had the grace to forgive me, I know that for the rest of my life I would have never forgiven myself. You marched back into that blizzard to look for me and my party, and that, friend Slurr, was the most heroic thing I have ever known. But enough of this mutual admiration. Let’s get you up on Valosa’s back, so that we might get off this frozen pile of dung!”

  “Please, before we move, do you have any water? I am near death from thirst,” Slurr said.

  Yarren smiled. “I can do better than that.” He held out a drinking skin. Unscrewing the top, he said, “Renton left me with a flask of Rethmiran brandy to keep my insides warm while I searched for you. There are several swallows left!” He handed the skin to Slurr and steadied the general’s hands as he raised it to his mouth. The dark purple liquid trickled down his parched throat, leaving a trail of warmth as it did. It tasted as
good as anything he remembered consuming, and as it hit his stomach, he felt the heat radiate through his body.

  Yarren looked at his friend and saw that his face was gaunt and ashen. Many days without food, crammed into this freezing grotto, had brought him to the door of the Next Plane, but all was well now. Slurr took another drink, then handed the skin back to the wizard.

  “I think I can move now,” he said. “Hand me my sword, and let’s go!”

  Yarren picked Gorshinda from among the frozen bodies and handed it to the general. Slurr returned it to its scabbard. With Yarren’s arm around him for support, Slurr took a precarious step toward the opening.

  “How long have you been searching for me?” he asked as he and the wizard stepped out of the small cavern into the dim light of the afternoon sky.

  “All of the wizards scoured these hills for six days. Then the ships returned. I sent the others back with Renton. Valosa and I remained behind, and we have been hunting for you for a fortnight, plus one day. I have to say, Slurr, it is a miracle that you survived. From the looks of you, I’d guess you haven’t eaten since you returned to look for my hunting party. You might be able to survive that, but to have gone that long without water…you should have perished.”

  “A miracle. Yes, that’s an apt description. I don’t know how many days I lay unconscious in the beast’s hold, but during that time of darkness I remember seeing Cerah’s face in my delirium. I wonder if she was projecting her image to me from afar, just to keep me alive.”

  Yarren considered this. “The powers of the Chosen One go beyond anything I’ve experienced in all of my years on Melsa. If it were possible for you to be sustained in such a manner, I believe her capable of such magic.”

  “I’m beginning to believe she is capable of just about anything,” Slurr said, smiling weakly. “I cannot wait to be with her again.”