Hunter Brown and the Consuming Fire

by Chris Miller

  “Enough! You have spoken you last, CodeBREAKER!”

  He raised his black sword behind him and started to bring it down toward Philan’s head. But before the fatal blow could be struck, Philan leaped backward, flipping end over end. The black sword passed just below where Philan spun in the air and miraculously severed the ties that bound his hands.

  Philan landed squarely on both feet; with his hands now free he could move even quicker.

  Kane, not thrilled at having been shown up in front of his men, swung angrily at the young man who had just evaded his blow. With each attack, Philan managed to sidestep and tumble out of the way, much to the delight of the Codebearer faithful.

  “Kane, Kane, Kane, Kane!” the Shadow warriors began to chant, spurring on their champion to finish the unarmed man. The scene had suddenly turned into a sport.

  Despite Philan’s heroic efforts, I knew that without a weapon the young captain could never win the battle. Scanning the room, I noticed a table in the corner where the Veritas Swords had been collected. A lone Dispirit kept guard beside it, but he looked to be paying more attention to the commotion in the center of the room than to his assignment.

  “You stay out here,” I whispered to Boojum, “and don’t make a sound!”

  “Okee-dokee!” he said, as I slipped out into the Round.

  Once inside, I kept to my hands and knees, crawling around the circumference of the room until at last I was directly under the weapon’s table. The Dispirit’s spindly legs were in front of me, and before he knew what happened, my sword had diminished him to a puff of smoke. Thankfully, in the midst of the ongoing struggle and loud chanting nobody saw or heard him disappear.

  Working silently, I reached over the edge of the table and removed the confiscated swords one by one, stuffing my bag full with as many of them as I could fit, all the while keeping an eye out for Philan’s own sword. It wasn’t too hard to identify; it was the one inscribed with his favorite quote from the Writ: “Never look down on the young.”

  As soon as I had it in hand, I stuffed another two swords into my bulging bag and crawled back out from the table. Slinging Trista’s bow over my shoulder, I carefully circled around into position to deliver Philan’s sword.

  “Tired yet, Kane?” Philan asked with a smile.

  “Never,” the Gorewing seethed, “you are but a pesky fly I will crush.” He delivered an earth-shaking blow to the ground with his deadly blade. Philan leaped back, now standing less than twenty feet from where I crouched.

  Not wanting to waste the opportunity, I slid the Veritas Sword across the floor where it settled between Philan and Kane. Then, I darted back to the door I had entered and disappeared behind it before anyone knew I was there.

  Philan spotted the sword hilt right away and leaped forward, grabbing the sword from the ground, rolling across the floor and back to his feet in a single smooth motion. The Gorewing was furious things were not going his way. He looked like he might even call his men to seize the prisoner, but the chant of his name caused him to swell with pride. His eyes burned with fury and he attacked Philan despite his better judgment.

  The two went at it, matching each other’s blows in mirrored attacks of expert skill. Clearly, this was not an easy challenge for either of them. The crowds backed away from the conflict as the two began to use more and more room in their duel to the death.

  I slipped back out of my hiding place a second time and began untying the remaining Codebearers. I whispered to them and handed them their swords, which they held behind their backs in hopes the Shadow would not know they were unbound.

  “Where have you been?” Trista asked in a whisper, when I arrived behind her at last, cutting the ropes and handing her the bow.

  “Shhh, I’ll tell you later; just stay still and wait for my word!”

  Philan somersaulted over the brute with his sword flashing brightly in one hand. He landed on his feet and plunged the sword behind himself without looking, wounding the Gorewing in his back. He fell to his knees in pain and anger. Silence fell over the Shadow as they watched their general fall.

  “It’s over Kane, I won. Surrender and leave this place…and I will let you live,” Philan said.

  “You haven’t won,” Kane scoffed. “You’ve only sealed your doom, young one.”

  Pressing a hand to the fresh wound on his back he stood up, now even more determined to rid himself of his adversary once and for all. Only this time, he didn’t do it with the power of his blade, but the power of his command.

  “Kill him,” Kane shouted. “Kill them all!”

  The horde of Shadow howled with glee and surrounded Philan, who was grossly outnumbered and now quite tired as well.

  “For the Way of Truth and Life!” I shouted the Codebearer mantra.

  “For the Way of Truth and Life!” the Codebearers cheered in response. A dozen swords blazed to life and the battle was begun. Trista, who was still unable to use her bow, kept safely behind me. At first, the element of surprise gave us an edge. It seemed as though we would easily win the battle. But just as the Shadow’s numbers seemed to diminish, a second round of reinforcements flooded the room from other parts of the monastery.

  “You three, get out of here now!” Philan shouted over the chaos. “You can’t let them find you!”

  What once was a rescue quickly turned to an escape as Rob and I cut a path toward the door I had left Boojum behind. We opened the door to a frightened Boojum who saw our blades and raced away in the opposite direction, screaming at the top of his lungs.

  “Boojum, wait up!” I shouted, but if he heard me he didn’t show it, running as quickly as he could away from our flaming blades.

  “Put your sword away, Rob,” I commanded, “or else every Shadow will hear we’re out here.” Rob reluctantly complied and we caught up to Boojum who was trembling from the commotion.

  “Poor guy,” Trista said, picking him up and cuddling him close.

  “Poor guy? What about poor us? We almost got ourselves killed back there,” Rob said. “We need to get out, now!”

  “Yeah, but I’m willing to bet the front doors are guarded as well. How are we going to get past them?” Trista asked.

  “There has to be another exit,” I said.

  “What does it matter? Even if we do escape, we don’t have a plan. I mean, where are we going to hide in this city if everyone is looking for us?” Rob wondered.

  “The Bridesmaid!” I exclaimed. “Stoney would still be up there at the ship!”

  “At least we hope,” Rob replied grimly. We all instinctively knew what he meant by that. Who was to say where the Shadow might have landed first and what might have happened up at the docks before the attack on the monastery.

  “I say it’s worth a try,” said Trista, “but we still have to get out. That won’t be easy.”

  At this, Boojum seemed to light up with an idea.

  “Out, out! Follow me!” He leaped out of Trista’s arms and scurried down the hallway ahead. We followed. Every so often, Boojum would pause at an intersection of hallways and look both ways, scratching his head as if trying to remember which way to go. Then, with some level of certainty, he would set off in one direction or another.

  “This is no good; we’re just going in circles,” Rob complained. “He’s obviously lost.”

  “No, he’s not; look at that!” Trista shouted, pointing to a spiral staircase at the end of the hallway. The stairs led both up to a second level and down to a lower level as well.

  “Come, come! Out!” Boojum declared, heading down into the darkened bowels of the monastery. Only three steps down, I found the medallion on my neck begin to warm, glowing softly beneath my shirt. I immediately stopped my descent and the others following behind crashed into me, unable to slow their momentum in time.

  “A little warning would be nice,” Rob suggested from th
e rear.

  “No kidding,” Trista added. “Why did you do that?”

  “Shhh,” I said, “the Flame…I think its trying to…”

  Up.

  The instructions were clear; we were heading the wrong way.

  “Well, what’s it saying?” Trista asked.

  “It wants us to go up,” I answered.

  “Well, that’s good to know; let’s hurry,” Rob said, leading the way back up.

  “Wait,” Trista said. “Boojum’s still ahead of us. We have to let him know.” We tried calling out from where we stood, but Boojum was already too far gone to hear us.

  “I’ll go get him,” I offered. “You guys wait here.”

  Rob shook his head. “Bad idea, we shouldn’t split up.”

  “We’re not splitting up; I’m coming right back.”

  “I just don’t think you should go alone,” Rob suggested. “We are trying to protect the Flame, after all.”

  “I’ll go,” Trista said. “Boojum likes me better anyway. Maybe we can coax him back quicker.”

  Rob reluctantly agreed to keep watch from the top of the stairs while Trista and I recovered our furry friend. With each step downward, the medallion seemed to glow brighter, either to light our way, or to warn us of danger. The feeling in my gut told me which it was, but I pushed it aside and continued down anyway.

  “Booooojum!” Trista called, her voice echoing through a massive chamber of darkness. There was no response, but a slight scampering sound somewhere across the room. The glow of the medallion only lit a path ten feet in front of us with its golden light.

  “This place smells awful,” Trista said, covering her nose with her shirt, “like something rotten…or dead.”

  As we progressed further into the room, we discovered it was filled with a variety of strange and horrible devices that looked like they belonged in a dungeon.

  On one wall, an inscription was inscribed in the stone. It read:

  Purify through Pain

  “I don’t like this at all,” I said. “This place gives me the creeps.”

  “Me too,” Trista agreed. “Let’s go back.”

  I was about to agree with her, when I caught the sound of crying somewhere up ahead.

  “Boojum, is that you?” I said, hurrying my step. Sure enough, in a corner Boojum was sobbing quietly. “Hey buddy, what’s wrong?”

  “Bad things,” Boojum said. “Boojum wrong way.”

  Trista picked up the little guy and cradled him in her arms. “It’s okay, little fella. You’re safe now, let’s go back…”

  SLAM!

  The door at the base of the stairs swung shut and a voice that sounded half-alive echoed out of the darkness of the room.

  “Hold it right there. You’re not going anywhere. Not until I get what I came for.”

  Xaul stepped out of the shadows to block our exit; it was the perfect trap. How he had come to find us I couldn’t begin to imagine. His blackened blade surged to life, visible only by a faint outlining glow.

  “Well…where is it, boy? Where is the Flame?” Xaul pressed. “Tell me or prepare to fight.”

  “I’ll never tell!” I said boldly, igniting my own blade in defiance, ready to defend the Flame at all cost. Boojum disappeared into thin air at the brilliance of my lighted Veritas. There would be no escaping with him this time…I had to face my pursuer…I had to fight Xaul.

  “So be it,” Xaul said. “Prepare to die.” Without another word, Xaul lunged into his first attack. It was a simple forward thrust, which I deflected easily with my own Veritas Sword. His next two attacks came in sequence, a low angled slice followed by an upward stroke. I stepped away from his blows and redirected his sword with my own, leading him away from where Trista and I had been cornered.

  He was feeling me out, testing my technique. Then, with a hint of a smile Xaul launched into a full sequence of wild aggressive blows, snaps and thrusts designed to set me off balance. It was all I could do to deflect his attacks.

  When the path was clear, Trista ran for the stairs in hopes of alerting Rob of the danger, but the door was locked. All she could do was watch and pray for the best as Xaul and I fought in the center of the room. Blow by blow, my Veritas seemed to guide me, helping me match Xaul’s every move so long as I focused on the words of the Writ. But Xaul was better than me and I knew it. Doubts began to creep into my mind, separating me from the words of truth.

  Don’t lose concentration, Hunter. Stay focused, I encouraged myself. The Code of Life empowered me through the words of the Writ.

  “You’re slowing down,” Xaul chided, trying to distract me. “You are growing weak…just like Petrov…just like your father.”

  My father? His words shattered what little focus I had left and pulled my mind entirely off of the battle. What did he know about my father? It was only for a moment, but it was all he needed.

  I tried to dodge his next lunge, but it came too quickly. His sword caught the side of my left arm and left a stinging black wound below my shoulder before I slipped away.

  Howling in pain, I evaded his following blows only by fleeing the fight and hiding in the darkness. I retracted my sword and pressed myself behind one of the gruesome devices that were stored in the Xin temple. My first instinct was to try and repair the wound on my arm with the healing powers of the Veritas…but it wouldn’t work.

  The wounds of a Veritas can only be healed by the Author himself, I remembered Petrov saying. I winced, remembering what had happened to Petrov’s arm. I was in trouble…we needed to escape and now.

  “Petrov was a fool to leave the Flame with a child,” Xaul sneered as he searched the room for where I hid. “Why don’t you make this easy on yourself and give me what I want. You can’t hide forever.”

  Xaul was getting closer, and I began frantically eyeing the room, looking for a window or exit of any kind. Surely there must be some way out. Then, I spotted it. Across the room there was an open door, that led into an even darker room. Trista was only a few feet away from it. With the Author’s help I might be able to lead her through it before Xaul could block our escape.

  When the moment presented itself, I raced across the room and executed my plan with flawless precision, grabbing Trista by the arm and pulling her into the darkness beyond the yawning doorway. But Xaul was hot on my tail.

  Together Trista and I huddled in the darkness behind a stone wall. Xaul entered the room with determined steps and laughed at our futile attempt to escape. His silver eyes hovered in the darkness gazing directly at us, maybe even through us.

  “The darkness can’t hide you, Hunter! I can still see. Now for the last time, give me the Flame!”

  “No,” I shouted, stepping back and holding Trista behind me. “It doesn’t belong to you.”

  “Oh, but it does.”

  “Hunter, stop…I…” Trista started to say, but her warning ended in a heart pounding scream. Falling backward, she grabbed hold of my backpack and yanked us both over a ledge and into a dark pit.

  My initial fall was cut short as Xaul reached out and grasped the medallion around my neck. For a split second the chain dug painfully into my neck. I was caught between Trista’s weight and Xaul’s strength which held tightly to the medallion.

  “You should have given it to me!” Xaul said, watching as the chain began to choke life from me. He raised his sword to stab my heart. Suddenly, the Flame in the Author’s mark exploded in a flash of blinding light, singeing Xaul’s hand and forcing him to let go of the medallion. He groaned in horrid agony from the searing heat of the Flame, letting us fall into the inky black abyss below.

  The fall lasted what seemed like an eternity before ending in a painful splash. We submerged several feet deep into a cistern of tepid black water. When at last we resurfaced I was desperate for breath.

  “Help….me…” I panted frantically, as Trista and I both came up for air. “I can’t swim….” Back under I went, tryi
ng desperately not to swallow the water around me. Trista’s arm plunged down and grabbed hold of my collar, pulling me to the surface once more. She swam with me to the side of the cistern where we both grabbed hold of a chain and hoisted ourselves up onto a thin ledge, coughing and spitting out the putrid water.

  “Thanks,” I said, when at last I found breath.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  My neck was sore from where Xaul had pulled on the medallion, and my arm throbbed from the Veritas wound. I reached up with my good arm to my neck and discovered something was wrong. The medallion was gone.

  “Oh no,” I gasped, “I’ve lost it!”

  “Lost what?”

  “The medallion, it must have fallen off in the water somewhere.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Trista dove back into the cistern in search of the medallion. She resurfaced a moment later, with her bow and my sword, but no medallion.

  “I reached the bottom,” she explained, “but I didn’t see the medallion. I’ll have to go under again.”

  She dove back under the water, but this time did not resurface as quickly as before. I waited as the water surface slowed. After a minute had passed I began to worry. She had been under far too long, I didn’t know what to do. Then, at last, the surface broke and with a large gasp for air, Trista was back.

  “Good news…and bad news…” she panted. “I found the medallion, but it’s stuck beneath a grate in the floor.”

  “A grate?”

  “Yeah, it has a lock on it too. I think there’s a drain of some kind underneath; the water’s so murky it’s hard to tell. The light of the medallion was all I had to go by! I could try again, but…I’ll need your help.”

  “Are you crazy? I can’t swim!”

  “You don’t have to; I’m a good enough swimmer for the both of us. Just use your sword to break open the grate and retrieve the medallion. Then I’ll bring us both up for air.”

  “You make it sound so simple.”

  “Trust me,” she waved me back into the water.

  “Oh man, I’m going to regret this,” I muttered as I plunged back into the pool. It went against every ounce of sense in me. I had done something like this only once before in Solandria, when I was emboldened by a false sense that the Bloodstone was hidden under the water. Even then, I had tied a rope around my waist as a lifeline to safety. This time, Trista was my lifeline and as much as I trusted her, I would still be plunging myself underwater. The thought of it made me uneasy.