“Wh-what happened?” Klaybear stammered, disoriented by his mental vision.
“The staff began to glow,” Thal said, “surrounding and encasing you in its emerald radiance, and you did not appear to recognize your surroundings.”
“I saw the gates of Shigmar breached,” Klaybear whispered, sinking onto the sarcophagus, “the people--my people--were dying. I used the staff; it caused a wave of destruction. The wave destroyed everything it touched. People, plants, and animals died; friend and foe died. I saw their pained faces. I saw their spirits sucked into the staff.” He looked up at his companions, eyes wet. “It was horrible to behold . . . to see their accusing faces as their essence was drawn into this staff.”
“It was the future that you saw,” Thal noted, “and what will happen when we return to Shigmar with the staff.”
Klaybear sighed. “I feel we must go quickly, but I do not want to go, to face . . . ,” his voice trailed off without finishing his thought.
Thal nodded, squeezing the kailu’s shoulder then letting his arm fall. “How do we leave here?”
“We could open a door directly to Shigmar,” Tevvy suggested.
Blakstar shook his head. “We have to retrieve the horses,” he noted.
“Along with Klare and Rokwolf,” Klaybear added.
“Maybe the guards know,” Tevvy shrugged.
Together they left the tomb; when the clay statues saw Klaybear holding the staff, they both went onto one knee, bowing to him, their faces oddly childlike in the green glow of breath-giver.
“We exist only to serve you, master,” they intoned in their sepulchral voices.
“How do we get back to the surface?” Klaybear asked.
Without rising from their bows, the statues struck the ground between them with their maces. A gray shimmering archway opened in the space between them. Klaybear and his companions stepped away from the tomb doors toward the statues and heard the doors clunk shut and the lock click behind them.
“We will await your return, master,” the left said.
“When you have completed your quest, master,” the right added.
“When I have saved Shigmar?” Klaybear asked.
“No, when your life has run its course . . . ,” the left began.
“If such is your lot,” the right inserted.
“. . . or your desire,” the left went on.
“And you wish to return the staff to this place for safe-keeping,” the right finished.
“You may open a door to this room, master,” the left said.
“And we will give you access to the tomb,” the right said.
Klaybear nodded, bowing to them. “It shall be as you say,” he said, following his companions through the door.
Thal stood looking at the altar, smiling. He turned to Klaybear as the archway winked out. “We can retrieve two more messages, now,” he said.
Blakstar looked puzzled. “Two? How?”
“One with only the staff inserted,” Thal replied, smiling at the kortexi, “and one more with both staff and sword inserted.” He looked at Klaybear. “Which one first?”
Klaybear thought for a moment. “The staff alone, I think,” he said, and Thal stepped aside so he could slide the staff into the larger of the two holes, next to the slot for the sword.
As they had seen when they first entered the tomb, the head of Shigmar winked into life, floating above the center of the altar.
“Chosen of the One,” the same voice spoke, “again I speak to you, the words sounding strange in my ears, but I know you will understand me. Now that you have retrieved the staff, you must hasten to save my city, which is now your city. As I know your vision has shown you, you must stand on the hill north of and in view of the city, and sing the following incantation: eli-ghende-gwehram-sisogheto-kustho-staurore-aiwamdwo. This, we believe, will destroy those who would destroy my city and my order. You can only do this one time; it will store the great energy needed for two important restorations that you have, I believe, been shown in your vision. Melbarth believes, and I agree, that the cost of using this power may be more than you can bear, but that in order to fulfill your destiny, you must pay the cost, to the last ayesu, if you would be all the One would have you become. Write the incantation down, for you must sing it exactly as I have said, or you might destroy yourself. I will wait until you are ready to write.” The face smiled at them.
Klaybear looked around the room for parchment, ink, and quill; Thal saw his blank look, and took out the things he needed, intending to hand them to the kailu, but Klaybear stood rigid, his mouth slightly open. He handed the bottle of ink to Tevvy, who opened it and held it up for him. Thal knelt on one knee beside the awemi, putting the parchment on the other and dipping his quill. “We are ready,” he said to Shigmar’s floating, silent head.
“Very well,” he said, speaking the incantation slowly, “eli-ghende-gwehram-sisogheto-kustho-staurore-aiwamdwo,” and when he finished repeating the orthek, the head winked out.
“It’s going to kill me,” Klaybear said dully.
“Don’t be absurd,” Thal replied, tapping the parchment with his rod and rolling it up. He slipped it somewhere inside his robes, accepted the ink bottle from Tevvy, and stowed it with his quill back into one of his belt pouches. “How can you use the staff later to do what we are destined, as keys to destroy Gar, if you are dead?”
“Maybe someone else uses it later,” Klaybear said.
“How can you return the staff to the tomb,” Thal went on, “if you are dead?” He turned to Blakstar. “Let’s find out what else Shigmar will tell us,” he pointed to the slot, “slip your sword into place.”
“Chosen of the One,” Shigmar’s head spoke, after winking to life over the altar, “you have already discovered the ability of your verghrenum to locate each other; you can also use the keys to communicate with each other. Simply concentrate on the person with whom you wish to speak and draw a small archway, about the size of a person’s head, which is how we managed to leave you these messages. You will see the person, as you now see me, and he, or she, will see you in a similar manner. You will be able to converse as long as the small doorway is kept open. Be warned, however, that should you appear to someone who is asleep, or in danger, you put yourself at great risk; you can be harmed, even killed, when communicating in this manner.”
“So we have a physical presence,” Thal said to himself.
“Yes, and no,” Shigmar’s head replied. “Melbarth suggested you might say that, although the explanation is beyond me, but he tells me to say that it is like the teka used to create a simulacrum, a kind of sympathetic teka, but I digress. Conceivably, you could use this ability to locate and communicate with other persons, or as a means to spy on your enemies. This you must not do: the more powerful the creature, the easier it will be for the creature to detect and destroy you, so we, Melbarth, Karble, and I, exhort you to use this ability only to communicate with or locate other chosen, or maybe your masters, although we are unsure of them. You have reached a time when few, if any, will trust you, some will actively seek to destroy you, most will fear you. Beware of everyone else, and on the other side, you must trust each other implicitly, Karble suggests that this will be most difficult for his descendant. Each of you has a part to play; each part, no matter how small it appears, is vital to your ultimate success. Karble tells me I have wandered again, far from communication. All that I have not covered at this point is one contingency: if the person you are trying to locate, or with whom you wish to communicate, is unconscious, drugged, or shielded mentally, you will see only blackness, a blackness that you should interpret as that chosen being in dire trouble. Locate that chosen as quickly as possible and go to his, or her, aid immediately, lest Gar get the upper hand.” The head winked out. Blakstar slid his sword out and slipped it into its sheath; Klaybear retrieved his new staff.
“That last part sounds ominous,” Tevvy noted. “I get the feeling that someone of our larger company is in
trouble.”
Klaybear looked at him for a long moment before nodding. “We should try and contact Klare, or Rokwolf,” he said.
“Go ahead,” Blakstar shrugged, “it would be useful to know how they are before we open a doorway to them.”
Klaybear drew a small circle on the altar with the heel of his staff, the green glow of the emerald eye filling the room, then lifted it to form the arch. For a moment after the arch shimmered to life, they saw a flash of Klare’s face, but before they could determine if the look on her face was of fear or pain, the small archway went black. They exchanged puzzled and concerned looks. Klaybear tried again; when the arch shimmered to life for the second time, they got another glimpse of Klare’s face, sweat covered, streaks of dirt, and in pain, and they heard a split-second of her scream, cut off when the arch went black.
“I must go to her,” Klaybear said, withdrawing his staff so the small black arch winked out. He put his staff on the floor and started to draw a larger circle.
Thal put out a hand to stop him. “You cannot. If you tried to step through when the arch went black, I fear you would be caught in between, forever lost. Try to contact Rokwolf.”
A spasm of anger shot across the kailu’s face, then he slumped to the ground, both hands wrapped around and sliding down the staff, the light of the eye dimmed.
Thal looked from Klaybear to Blakstar. “You try,” he whispered.
Blakstar nodded, taking out his sword and imitating Klaybear’s actions, filling the room with golden light. When the arch shimmered to life, the space inside was completely black; they saw no glimpse of anything.
“This is not good,” Tevvy said, needlessly.
“Is it possible that we are still inside the tomb,” Thal said, “so still blocked?”
Blakstar shrugged. “You know more about teka-enhanced devices than I do.”
“Why don’t you and Tevvy go outside, and try it again, there,” Thal suggested.
Blakstar nodded, moving to the door; Tevvy followed, looking back at Klaybear, face wrinkled with concern. Bright sunshine stabbed into the tomb as the door opened and the two of them stepped out. Thal tried to coax Klaybear to his feet, and after several moments, Klaybear stood up.
“We must get to her,” Klaybear said dully, “she’s in trouble.”
Thal nodded. “Let’s go outside,” he said, “maybe Blakstar has gotten through.”
The kortexi stepped off the porch of the white stone building, squatting on one of the flat stones leading up to the porch. He drew the small circle again, concentrating on Klare. For the third time, they got a glimpse of her face, dirty, streaked with sweat, and heard a split-second of her scream of pain, then the arch went black. He tried again, concentrating on Rokwolf, and this time, he saw Rokwolf’s face, dirty and bruised, as if he had been beaten. His head lolled, and his eyelids fluttered open.
“Blakstar?” Rokwolf croaked. “How? I can only see your head.”
“No time to explain,” Blakstar hissed. “Where are you and Klare?”
Rokwolf’s face, which brightened when he saw Blakstar, darkened. “They have her; I’ve failed.” His head drooped; his body shook as if he were silently sobbing.
“We’re coming to you,” Blakstar said. “If you can stay awake, we can open a doorway right to you.”
“No,” Rokwolf croaked, “there are too many; you’ll be trapped. They’ve already violated Klare.”
“What?” Blakstar growled, his face suddenly mottled. “Stay awake!” he exclaimed. “We’ll be there in moments.” He lifted the sword; Rokwolf’s face vanished. He drew a second archway, will-giver flaring brilliantly; Thal and Klaybear came out of the temple. Before either could say anything, a doorway to Rokwolf had opened, shimmering in the air, and the kortexi leapt through.
“Blakstar!” Tevvy exclaimed. “No, wait!” The archway winked out.
“What . . . ?” Thal started to ask, but Tevvy cut him off.
“Give me the staff!” Tevvy shouted. “I saw where Rokwolf is; I can open the doorway to him.”
Thal and Klaybear stood looking at him, unable to process what he was telling them.
“Klare’s in trouble,” Tevvy went on, holding out his hand, “they’ve been captured, and they’re . . . they’re . . . ,” he stammered, but he could not complete the sentence. He jumped to them and took the staff from Klaybear’s limp fingers.
“Klare?” Klaybear asked.
But Tevvy ignored him, opening the archway as he had seen the others do, with the image of Rokwolf clearly in his mind, the emerald eye glowed brightly in response to the awemi’s need. The gray shimmering changed to Rokwolf, beaten and bruised, tied to a tree.
“Hurry!” Tevvy exclaimed, “before Blakstar is overwhelmed. Rokwolf said there were too many of them!”
Thal grabbed Klaybear’s arm and dragged him through the archway; Tevvy stepped through after them, and pushed the staff back into Klaybear’s hand, the green light of the stone dimming and going out as soon as Tevvy released it. A dagger appeared in his hand, and he sliced the ropes holding Rokwolf, who slumped to the ground, body wracked with sobs. They could hear shouts of fright and the clash of weapons to their left.
“Heal him, Klaybear,” Tevvy said, “then follow us; we’ll try and catch the kortexi before they have him tied to a tree.” They heard growls of rage and screams of fright; Tevvy ran off in that direction with Thal in tow.
“Leave me,” Rokwolf moaned to his brother, who had knelt beside him and put his green-glowing hands upon his head, the light of his hands brighter than ever, the emerald eye flaring to life in response to his action. “They have Klare; they’re violating her; don’t you understand?” Energy flowed into Rokwolf, closing his wounds and giving him strength. They heard the sudden crackle of lightning and knew Thal had joined the fray. Rokwolf jumped to his feet, looking around for his weapons, suddenly filled with energy and deadly purpose; the clash of arms and shouts of anger and fear continued to echo under the trees. Rokwolf ran forward to where his captors had dropped his weapons; Klaybear followed, but continued to be silent, breath-giver dragging behind him, the emerald eye dark.
“This way,” Rokwolf said after picking up his sword and shield, and slinging his bow and quiver over his shoulder. “It sounds like the kortexi has driven them away from Klare, but not before the damage has been done.”
They moved through the trees, past the bodies of purem in various states of dismemberment, still leaking fluids and some twitching, along with a few evil-looking wethem, the bodies hacked to pieces and scattered over the ground. They soon came to the center of the camp and saw Tevvy kneeling next to something lying on the ground. Klaybear sobbed and ran forward, hands glowing again, breath-giver surrounded again by green light from the stone, seeing the beloved face, dirt and tear streaked, bruises on her cheeks, honey-flecked brown hair disheveled, her naked skin spattered with blood that smoked, unmoving on the ground, surrounded by bodies hacked worse than the others they had thus far seen. Tevvy looked up when he heard them approach, his face bleak. Klaybear fell to the ground beside them, placing his glowing hands upon her head, singing the orthek of healing, pouring into her more healing energy than he had ever been able to handle; the staff seemed to understand his need, the emerald stone bathing them in green light and enabling him to channel even more energy, directing him to the wounds and helping him to close and heal them. The eyes fluttered and opened, the green eyes focused on the face of her husband.
“You didn’t come,” Klare spoke in barely a whisper, “I warned them that you would come and rescue me, but they only laughed as they . . . as they . . . you didn’t come,” she faltered, eyes filling with tears. Klaybear sobbed as he pulled her to him fiercely, burying his face in her hair, and both were suddenly encased in a nimbus of emerald light.
Rokwolf touched Tevvy and then helped the awemi to his feet; they turned to go in the direction of the fading sounds of battle, took a few steps, then stopped when they saw Thal moving
toward them.
“Where’s Blakstar?” Tevvy asked.
Thal turned and looked back over his shoulder. “He is still chasing them,” he said dully and turned to look at them. “I do not think he will stop until he has caught and killed them all. He appears to have lost his mind,” he finished, shaking his head.
The Redemption, Volume 1 Page 61