by Pedro Urvi
He made a sign, and the soldiers began to crawl on in his direction. As they made their way, he went into the cave the tunnel opened into. The temperature there was even lower; they would have to go quickly so as not to freeze as they went. He noticed a trail of blood on the frozen ground. One of the fugitives was wounded! They had fallen into one of the tunnel traps! This makes things a lot easier. No matter how hard they try, they can’t hide their trail now. The wound might even be fatal… The question is: is it the assassin or the Masig who got caught in the trap?
They kept on at a steady pace because of the low temperature, whatever the risk that implied. The first symptoms of frostbite began to appear in the group. Purple faces exhaled great quantities of thick white vapor with each breath of iced air that filled their lungs. There was frost on the beards and clothes of the hardened warriors. The metal components of their scaled armor would bring them down if they did not reach some shelter soon. Luckily those men were accustomed to freezing weather, since they were all people of the snow and ice and would stand up to what no other mortal could in those extreme conditions. Lasgol guided them along the passages as he followed the unmistakable trail of blood.
At last they reached a cavern whose entrance was blocked by a great rectangular slab of polished jet-black stone. The slab was taller and slightly wider than the most battle-hardened of his men. This is utterly unexpected. What’s this perfectly rectangular slab doing in such a formless kind of place? It makes no sense. This is no work of Nature. It has to have been built by man. Lasgol studied it carefully, perplexed, trying to decipher the thing which reared before them. The men formed a circle behind him and looked on without understanding.
“It looks as though that marble slab …” said Toral, pointing at it, “…or whatever it is, seems to have been put there for a purpose.”
“Yes, it has. To block some small passage in the rock wall which must lead to another cavern, I guess.”
“Shall we move it?” offered the Captain.
“Go ahead. Try to shift it, although I have the feeling that we won’t be able to…”
“It’s not so big, surely we can manage…” said Toral.
Six men took their places around the slab. On the count of three they began to push to the right with all their strength; six strong able soldiers capable of bringing down doors, walls and more or less anything in their way.
They could not move the slab at all.
“Leave it, leave it…” said Lasgol, seeing their faces turning red with the effort. “Don’t go on, you won’t be able to move it.”
“I just can’t believe it,” said Toral. “It can’t weigh that much!”
“It’s not that, Toral, this slab has been sealed… with Magic. Brute force will get us nowhere with it. No matter how much we push, we won’t move it.”
Toral unsheathed his sword and struck the slab furiously. Sparks leapt as metal met rock, but there was not even a scratch on the surface. He attacked the slab again, this time hitting with the pommel: same result. He unsheathed his battle axe and hit the surface again and again with the back of it, which was shaped like a hammer. Not a scratch.
“This is unbelievable!” he said as he put away his weapons.
“Yes, and it’s terrifying… A lot of power has been used to seal this slab.”
“Shall we try another tunnel, then?”
The Ranger smiled at the hardened officer, “On the contrary, my good Captain, this is exactly where we have to go through. That’s why it’s sealed.”
“But if we can’t pass, surely the two fugitives won’t have either…” Toral reasoned.
“Are you sure? I bet they have. And if not, we still have to make sure. Whichever way, we have to open this sealed door and find out. I don’t know what’s behind it, but it must be something important.”
“I see… if we go on we won’t know for sure whether they got in there or not, even though it seems unlikely…”
“Exactly, Toral,” said Lasgol, patting the officer’s shoulder.
The Tracker stood in front of the slab, his nose an inch away from the shining black surface, practically trying to smell that rock and the Magic which sealed it. How on earth did they manage to anchor you against the rock? You clearly haven’t been built by man, nor by nature or the elements. You’ve been created and fixed here by arcane means. We can’t move you, but if I’m not mistaken you’re a door, that’s your purpose, therefore somehow your creators used to open and close you. I just have to find out how… He touched the rock wall around the perfectly rectangular structure in search of some spring or mechanism that would activate it.
Nothing.
He sat in front of the square shape, thinking. Something has to trigger it, even though there doesn’t seem to be any hidden spring. Lasgol breathed deeply, summoned his inner energy and used his power. Focusing on the black surface, he tried to sense the Magic which resided in it. Suddenly a primeval, elemental, mineral sense reached him, as if that slab were imbued by a power whose root, whose origin, were the earth itself. He went on using his inner energy, grasping, feeling with all his senses that strange, perfectly formed rectangle, but his power was ebbing…
No, it’s not earth I sense. It’s something elemental, something very basic, it’s liquid… The image of the lake over their heads came into his mind. Of course! Why didn’t I think of it before? It’s…Water!
Lasgol scratched his chin thoughtfully. Water. The element of Water. What does that mean? Why do I perceive a power based on the element of life emanating from a still surface? And then, as if someone were whispering in his ear, an idea took shape in the depths of his mind.
“Captain, a flask of water! Quick!”
Toral, bewildered, handed one to the Tracker, and Lasgol immediately poured some of its contents over the surface of the enigmatic stone.
They all looked on, expectantly.
With a loud snap the slab slid two paces to the left, revealing an opening in the rock wall and a mysterious cavern behind.
“I…I don’t know what to say…” mumbled Toral.
Lasgol smiled at the discovery in delight. He had deciphered the ancient enigma those caves held: a powerful magic based on the primeval element, Water, which flowed throughout that underground labyrinth of rock. Without more delay, deeply satisfied, he went into the cave.
It was huge, with a round lake of indigo blue filling it almost completely. A ring of clay surrounded the peaceful lagoon. In the center of it a gigantic geyser rose to the ceiling of the cavern. The jet was so strong and rose so high that they all stood staring at it as they entered the hall. They could not see the top of it, so high and majestic that it melted into the blackness of the lofty vault. What is this huge geyser doing inside that cave? From the roof, the liquid which was forced upwards showered down again, feeding the lagoon in an endless circle, as if an eternal dew rained down inside the cave.
Lasgol looked at the ceiling, searching for an explanation of this unlikely phenomenon of nature. An impenetrable grey mist covered the upper part of the chamber. Its thickness was impossible to determine.
Using his Gift the Tracker tried to feel for any living thing in that enormous cave, but could only sense something liquid and earthy.
Water. I feel water born out of the depths of the earth. That’s what I haven’t been able to identify… An ancient magic lives in this strange place which imbues everything, and whose power comes from Water.
“It’s unbelievable, a geyser like that in here. What’s it doing inside a cave?” Toral whispered in Lasgol’s ear.
The Tracker looked at him. The veteran’s cold eyes showed fear, a fear of the unknown, of the irrational. He turned to the rest of the men, who were staring at the unearthly scene in awe. Lasgol could feel the incredulity of those hardy warriors. He could almost touch the fear in their hearts. He shrugged.
“I don’t like this at all, Lasgol. I have a bad feeling. Nothing is as it should be in here. I’m sure there are White
Demons of the Mahuro in this accursed place. I can feel them.”
“Don’t be superstitious, Toral.” Lasgol said with a smile. “The Demons of Mahuro are nothing more than a legend to scare the children. Let me remind you that we aren’t in the snowy mountains of our own land, and you stopped being a child many years ago.” He was trying to calm the Captain, but without obvious success.
As they neared the shore of the lagoon, the Tracker noticed various hieroglyphs carved on the great boulders at the foot of the geyser. A message or a warning? thought Lasgol as he studied them. The geyser was alive in the midst of that frozen place, it beat with its own life. He looked thoughtfully at the great lake at his feet and something caught his attention, something which did not fit into the scene.
The waters of the lagoon did not move at all, they were completely inert; the surface was smooth as a mirror, apparently frozen in liquid form, as if lacking life, in eternal repose. For some unnatural reason not even the jet from the geyser created any impact on the surface of the lagoon. Before he could finish his reasoning, out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the soldiers inadvertently stepping into the water at the edge of the lake.
He held out his hand. “Stop!” he warned. The soldiers looked at him in surprise. Instinctively most of them reached for their weapons. They all stood still, waiting.
A wave spread from the soldier’s foot, crossing the lake surface at incredible speed until it reached the boulders at the foot of the geyser. The strange carved symbols began to shine, changing color and turning to an intense gold. The brightness increased and a strong golden light emanated from the geyser, lighting up the walls of the enormous chamber and filling the shadows with its golden radiance.
Absolute silence filled the cavern.
Lasgol’s brow wrinkled with worry.
Nothing happened. He looked around. All the men were at the ready, tense, prepared for an attack. Several moments went by and nothing happened. Lasgol tried to use his Gift to seek out hidden presences, but nothing was revealed. The magic of that underground place intervened, not allowing him to use his skills. After a few moments of hesitation, seeing there was no apparent danger, they decided to go round the lagoon and keep on in the same direction. They divided: Lasgol and ten men on one side, Toral with the rest on the other. They walked warily, alert to any movement, following the edge of the ring of clay. When both groups were half-way round, there came a splash in the stagnant water.
And suddenly terrifying scaly jaws, revealing rows of sharp fangs, came out of the water at lightning speed. Enormous reptiles with horrendous jaws of long saber-like fangs attacked the group.
Before Lasgol could react, three soldiers had been trapped in those lethal jaws. In the blink of an eye they were dragged to the bottom of the lagoon, violently shaken all the way, by gigantic crocodiles with murderous golden eyes.
“Beware! Giant crocs!” Lasgol shouted as he nocked his bow.
Another enormous greenish crocodile surged out of the lagoon, advancing rapidly, dragging its belly above its four short strong legs. The soldier who was its victim took a step back, taken by surprise, and this allowed the monster to sink its deadly fangs in the leg of the wretched man. He yelled in agony and hit the beast’s head hard with his sword in a vain attempt to free himself. The cuts barely penetrated the tough scales of the reptile. With a sudden thrust the beast spun round and dragged the man back to the water. Two other soldiers tried to block its way, but their attacks merely wounded it. Bleeding, it disappeared under water once again, taking the desperate soldier with it amid deafening screams.
“Giant reptiles! Beware!” Lasgol shouted, seeing the fierce fight the group on the other side of the lagoon was waging against the creatures.
Lasgol made his group retreat to a safer position and ran round the lagoon, keeping his aim on any new attack from the water. Behind him, less than two paces away was the rock wall; ahead was the great lagoon, seething with those lethal giant crocodiles. They were trapped. Suddenly another beast launched itself out of the water at great speed, its jaws wide open to show the huge, menacing rows of teeth. Lasgol fired an arrow which hit the beast in the heart, but it kept going in spite of the mortal wound, the arrow had not penetrated deeply enough. Lasgol nocked another one and let it fly, and this one hit the animal in its thick neck. The enraged beast looked at the Tracker and headed quickly towards him.
It’s just an animal, I must relax and trust my talent and my training, he told himself determinedly. He tried to calm his nerves. He needed something more powerful he could fire, something which could pierce the tough scaly skin of the beast. He needed a powerful shot. His talent would provide him with an extreme potency, capable of piercing steel plates. He focused, and a green light flashed through his wiry body. Without taking his eyes off the appalling reptile, he tensed the bow, breathed and aimed. The beast was almost on top of him, the huge maw searching for its prey. Lasgol aimed at the animal’s right eye, calmly, then an instant before the beast reached him he let the arrow fly. It went into the right eye with such brutal strength that it pierced the skull and made the beast vault over itself in a grotesque pirouette. The gigantic animal fell down dead just a hand-span away from Lasgol’s face.
“Phew!” he snorted... “By a hair.”
He nocked another arrow and used his skill again for another powerful shot. He aimed at a new beast which was coming out of the water. While three soldiers distracted it with thrusts and sword strokes, he hit it squarely in the heart, piercing it. This time the beast dropped dead.
The shouts of combat from the other shore made him look in that direction to see the soldiers fighting three enormous beasts. Several men lay dismembered on the ground, their torn limbs lying grotesquely amid a sea of blood. The reptiles launched themselves against the remaining soldiers, to be repelled repeatedly with shields and swords. The fight was furious and brutal. Screams echoed, wild and rending, blood splashed both men and animals. Beasts and men fell, hacked by swords, axes and jaws. The veteran soldiers, once recovered from the initial surprise of the attack, were holding back the fierce assault of the enormous crocodiles without losing ground, but they were suffering losses in the face of the strength and brutality of those monsters. Captain Toral shouted orders to his men and encouraged them on, all the time covering their flanks with one of his men. His face was covered in blood and his left arm hung inert.
Lasgol kept shooting at the beasts in a desperate attempt to prevent them reaching the soldiers. He could feel his source of inner energy running out inexorably. The battle flared up, with new crocodiles issuing from the depths of the lagoon in a frenzy to kill the intruders. The ground was stained red with the blood of men and beasts. On the opposite shore the group was barely holding up against the enraged reptiles, with only Captain Toral and one other man standing. The rest had perished, most of them torn to pieces. Lasgol looked around him. His group had sustained fewer losses; there were still five men standing and fending off two of the reptiles, their swords hacking furiously at the monsters.
The last three crocodiles of the abyss succumbed, hacked to pieces by the brave soldiers.
A disturbing silence filled the chamber.
The reptiles vanished.
Tense, the survivors waited.
What’s lying in wait for us now? wondered Lasgol uneasily.
Capture
Lotas turned round and faced the heavily embossed door of his office at the sound of two loud knocks. As it creaked open, his lieutenant Santes came in looking like someone who has seen a ghost.
“What the hell is going on?” Lotas demanded, angered by the interruption.
“The Norriel!” shouted Santes harshly, his eyes staring. “They’re coming!”
“It can’t be!”
“Boss, the Norriel and the young woman have managed to escape the ambush we prepared, and they’re coming this way!”
“But that’s impossible, how could they have survived?” Lotas exploded. He hurled t
he glass of vintage liqueur he was drinking against the floor.
“I don’t know, boss. When I reached the ambush from my position I found all the men torn to pieces, their lifeless bodies in a sea of blood. All dead, boss! All of them! There was blood on the walls and floor, like in a slaughterhouse. I can’t think how they could have survived the ambush and killed all our men. They’re demons!”
“That’s nonsense! How can they be demons?” fumed Lotas. He turned his back to think for a moment.
He had not calculated on this. What were the odds on them beating his men and coming out alive from the ambush? Practically none. Zero. On the other hand, they had already survived another ambush which had never previously failed. He could not take risks, it was not worth it. Escape today and kill them tomorrow, that’s what I should do. I can always catch them some other time, when the winds are more favorable.
“Are you absolutely sure they’ve escaped?”
“I swear it by my late mother. I saw it with my own eyes, boss. Our men’s corpses were thrown all over the room, and in the middle of the hall there were the three strangers drenched in our comrades’ blood. When I saw them I turned round and ran until I got to one of the hidden passages before they could see me. Luckily they didn’t. But they’ll soon be here, sooner or later they’ll find their way through the labyrinth. What shall we do? Regroup and face them here? Do you want me to call the rest of the men?”
“Yes and no… Call the rest of the men and tell them to regroup and face them. They must prevent them from getting here, by whatever means. But I’m not going to wait… If they were capable of surviving the ambush, they could cause me serious trouble. We’ll get away through the sewers. I won’t risk my life today against these worthless nobodies. Organize the defenses and gather my bodyguard together.”