The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection

by Harrison Davies

  Initially frightened by the exploding tree, the wolves recoiled, but then at the insistence of the pack leader, the troop returned, hungry and more determined.

  Surrounded now, Aniol and Coinin stood back to back and turned in a tight circle awaiting the eventual attack.

  With a vicious growl, the pack leader, a light grey beast with distinctive black face markings, launched himself forward and with a bound pounced for Aniol.

  Coinin, quick as lightning, turned and pushed Aniol free of the wolf’s path. The wolf collided with him instead and flung him to the ground. Coinin instinctively gripped the throat of the animal and held on for dear life as the animal snarled and spat to not only free itself but to bite down hard on its quarry.

  A quick look to his left saw that Aniol had already taken down a wolf with a deft swipe of her sword and was fending off a second.

  Any moment now another of these creatures was going to come to the assistance of the pack leader, and he was done for.

  He had to think quickly. What had Menin taught him about animal attacks and how to defend against one? He panted with the struggle to stay alive, horrid tasting saliva from the beast dripping into his mouth and foul breath stinging his eyes.

  His muscles were beginning to weaken when a thought struck him. He held his breath in panic, kicked off a boot with his other foot, touched the wet ground and closed his eyes. With all his might and strength he did the only thing that came to mind. Destinatè.

  Finally, it had worked. Quick as lightning, he and the wolf were gone. Seconds later, he returned to the spot he had left moments ago, only this time soaking from head to toe. Jumping to his feet, he dived at Aniol and in that split second they were gone just as a wolf landed right where they had been.

  Coughing and spluttering in pain, the pair landed heavily on the ground, far enough away from the attacking wolves for them not to cause further problems.

  The pain lasted for a few minutes, each clutching their chests in agony until eventually, they could breathe normally again.

  ‘Now I know why you have to hold your breath,’ Coinin groaned and sat up.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I used the Destinatè spell.’

  ‘You did it!’ Aniol said proudly. ‘Why did it work?’

  ‘I was frightened out of my wits. Maybe that fear fuelled my ability to cast the spell.’

  ‘Why are you wet?’

  Coinin rung his hair free of seawater. ‘I took the wolf for a swim in the harbour.’

  Aniol laughed out loud and then grew solemn. ‘Thank you for saving my life.’

  ‘I did not wish to be food for wolves,’ Coinin replied. ‘I’m worried, though, Aniol. That spell only occurred when I was fearful, and that makes me question if I truly am ready.’

  ‘You’ve done well so far,’ Aniol attempted to cheer.

  ‘Pure luck.’

  ‘Maybe not. Everything happens for a reason. Perhaps the key is to remain afraid.’

  ‘There’s no fear of that,’ Coinin admitted. ‘Where are we anyway?’

  Aniol stood and looked around. ‘I think I can just make the wall out in the distance, over there.’ She pointed.

  ‘It seems easier going over here. Why don’t we walk parallel to the wall from here?’

  With the sound idea agreed they both carefully made their way toward a series of dark shapes on the brow of a hill in the distance. The ground was smoother, but wetter thanks to a deep carpet of damp grass. Their boots made sucking noises as they clambered up the incline. Coinin realising he had only one boot, discarded the remainder.

  ‘Aniol, don’t look at me like that. The spell calls for physical contact with the ground.’

  ‘It’s an expensive spell if you have to keep replacing boots. Would your hand not do?’

  Coinin shook his head. ‘Sadly not. I’ll just have to endure without boots.’

  At the top of the hill, the wind kicked up and sent shivers down Aniol’s spine. She ignored it and carried onwards. Coinin, however, felt intense cold in his feet from the wet mud and the wind.

  ‘What are they?’ Coinin asked, and pointed to a series of stones ahead.

  ‘It looks like the stone circle from the map. We have arrived,’ Aniol said with certainty.

  Indeed, they had. Coinin lit a torch and handed it to Aniol. Two dozen tightly packed stone effigies, fifteen feet in height, dominated the landscape. In the centre, an altar, worn by the ravages of the wild, sat unused.

  Coinin examined the first of the monoliths and discerned pictographs carved into the surface. There was no familiarity about the images. He had never seen or read any texts that mentioned them. ‘Where do we have to go, Aniol?’

  Aniol retrieved the map and unfurled it. She traced her finger to where they were stood and followed a dotted line to the left. She pointed to a slab directly opposite and walked through the centre of the circle.

  Coinin performed a fingertip search of the giant stonework. Like the others around it, the stone held carved images, depicting unknown events or, perhaps, even a story of peoples in times gone by. One image, however, did stand out to him. It was so familiar, in fact, that he recognised it instantly. It was unmistakably the symbol for the Order of The Wulf. A wolf’s paw within a sun disc. Not only that, it stood proud of the surface by several millimetres. ‘Look, Aniol.’ Coinin pointed.

  Aniol’s brows raised and she smiled. ‘Well, done Curator. But what does it mean?’

  Coinin shook his head and thought back to how he usually accessed the secret library at the temple. He tried pushing the symbol, but it was not a button.

  Aniol’s keen eyes spotted what Coinin had missed. There were light scratches in a circumference around the image. ‘It’s not a button,’ Aniol declared, and promptly twisted the symbol with her thin fingers. It turned easily and then followed a rumbling that caused both to step back to the altar and await whatever would happen next.

  Like a well-choreographed dance, one by one the stones angled forwards until horizontal upon the ground, then, in order, dropped into the earth the height of the one before it. Soon the rumbling and movement stopped, and before them a gigantic stone staircase waited to be used.

  Coinin’s jaw had dropped at the spectacle, and Aniol was staring wide-eyed in disbelief.

  ‘Come on, let us not tarry. Who knows how long this stairwell will remain?’ Coinin urged.

  Hurriedly, both he and Aniol hopped from one stone step to the other. It was not an unusually long spiral staircase, though it ended deep enough underground to hide a tunnel. Grateful for the torches, the pair picked their way forward through a tunnel just tall enough to accommodate them both. The walls were of densely packed dirt rather than rock and Coinin worried for their safety, especially as the stairway had retracted leaving them stranded in the tunnel.

  What if there were a collapse? We’d be trapped, Coinin thought, and hurried his pace.

  The air was stale though breathable, and there were signs of recent activity by humans in the tunnel. Footprints and disturbed spider webs marked the route that several or more people had used recently.

  Eventually, after thirty minutes, tired and cold, Coinin and Aniol arrived at the foot of a set of steps cut into the rock. With limited options, they began the climb and stopped halfway to drink from a canteen.

  ‘I dislike climbing stairs immensely,’ Coinin complained.

  ‘Is there anything you don’t dislike?’ Aniol returned with a smirk.

  Coinin shook his head and smiled. ‘One day, maybe I’ll find something to like. Come on.’

  The pair continued ever upward, and when it seemed that the stairs would never end, a slight turn to the left brought them abruptly to the top where a second tunnel led forward.

  The sides of the tunnel were of stone cut from the surrounding hills and held several braziers along its length.

  Aside from warmth, the braziers lit the tunnel dimly, though enough to see by. Extinguishing the torches and leaving them
at the entrance to the tunnel, Aniol and Coinin ventured forward.

  Coinin shivered. ‘Do you feel that?’

  Aniol looked back and nodded. ‘There is definitely a breeze coming from up ahead.’

  A slight bend to the right gave them answers almost immediately. Ahead of them, a shimmering portal blocked their path. Like ripples of water, the portal gave off a blue hue that bounced off the walls of the tunnel.

  The pair stopped before it and looked at each other in disbelief. All this way to be stopped now.

  ‘I have no idea how to get past this,’ Coinin professed. ‘I had hoped Soliath’s magic here was just a story to keep people from trying to enter.’

  Aniol, braver than she looked, reached out and was stopped by Coinin who gripped her hand softly. He shook his head. ‘I should be the one to try.’

  Cautiously, he stepped forward and stretched out his hand to touch the translucent barrier. His fingers seemed to penetrate the energy for just a moment and then, without warning, the portal pulsated with a crackle like that of a miniature lightning storm. He was lifted into the air and flung along the corridor, narrowly missing Aniol. He landed heavily and groaned in pain.

  Aniol raced to his side and kneeled beside him. ‘Curator?’

  Coinin sat up with a cough. ‘Don’t go anywhere near that thing.’

  Aniol shook her head and rolled her eyes. ‘I have no intention. Though I might have a suggestion. Jericho was able to use the Key of Kalor twice. How?’

  Coinin accepted Aniol’s assistance to stand and then brushed his hands clean of grit. ‘Go on?’

  Aniol pointed to his chest. ‘Somebody else used it, of course. You can see the destination behind the portal. Therefore it stands to reason that you can transport yourself to that point. Although I should be the one to use it.’

  ‘Why would that be?’ Coinin cocked his head.

  ‘I’ve just offered a solid argument for using it.’

  ‘Ah, yes. Well, you had better be right about this.’ Coinin pulled the chain holding the key over his head and handed it to Aniol. ‘Here’s hoping it works.’

  ‘Here’s to not disintegrating in a cloud of dust,’ Aniol quipped.

  ‘Don’t even joke about that,’ Coinin said, suddenly worried that indeed that was going to be the likely outcome.

  ‘If this is it, it has been a pleasure serving you.’ Aniol closed her eyes and held her breath. Seconds later, she stood smiling on the far side of the barrier.

  Coinin almost teared up in relief, and Aniol urged him to join her.

  ‘Hey, why didn’t you port us to Rodine?’ He asked after a moment.

  Aniol considered her response. ‘I don’t have the skill. I can only port myself.’

  Coinin nodded and without hesitation, once again closed his eyes and concentrated on using the elemental forces to assist him in transporting. ‘Destinatè,’ he yelled, and quick as a flash he found himself on the far side of the barrier.

  ‘So it seems, Soliath prevented physical means of entry, but not magical. Ingenious,’ Aniol mused.

  ‘I’m more interested to know why the Key of Kalor worked for you.’ Coinin frowned.

  ‘Maybe that’s it. Perhaps it only works for a person once. Or as soon as another person uses it, it frees up to allow another person to use it, maybe the first, even. We don’t actually know who had used the Key when Jericho, Menin and Zaruun returned to Underworld. It was Menin who said she used it.’

  ‘You know, I think you’ve cracked the mystery. But we have other pressing matters to attend to.’

  The far side of the barrier was no different except for an imposingly solid iron door barring the way. They made their way forward and stopped before the plain fronted door. The only decoration was riveting along the edges. There was not a handle or a switch anywhere.

  ‘Wonderful, yet another obstacle,’ Aniol complained.

  ‘Not for long,’ Coinin said a little smugly. His head dipped, and he closed his eyes. ‘You had better stand back a little.’

  Aniol did so and watched with interest.

  Coinin turned his palms upright and formed a claw with each hand. His focus became solely on the elemental forces, bending the energies of such to his will. The rush of energy flowing through him was like a drug. He felt powerful and unstoppable in those moments.

  He lifted his head and opened his eyes. They had become a deep yellow like the sun and glowed with a powerful energy. After a few seconds, he directed his hands forwards and concentrated on the end result as he had been instructed. A low rumbling and cracking of rock shook the tunnel. Debris fell from the roof and dust choked Aniol.

  The door began to buckle and glowed red with heat. Without warning, it collapsed in on itself and fell to the tunnel ground with a clang. Aniol gave a small scream of fright and then, embarrassed, let out a giggle. She was amazed at Coinin’s ability.

  Coinin dipped his head once more and closed his eyes, focussing on returning the energy he had not used back to the elements.

  Aniol stepped forward and held her sword aloft should anyone have heard that they were likely on the way to investigate. ‘That was truly amazing, Curator.’

  ‘I aim to please,’ Coinin stated with a croaky voice. ‘But it does take a toll on you.’

  ‘Do you need to rest?’

  ‘No, let us push on.’

  They clambered over the remains of the door and stepped inside a brick chamber lit again by braziers. On the far wall, a stairwell ran upwards and around the chamber in a spiral pattern following the four corners of the room.

  Carefully, they climbed stair after stair, careful not to slip, since there was a lack of a handrail and it would surely mean their death if they fell.

  ‘Why don’t people build handrails on dangerous stairwells?’ Aniol complained.

  ‘Let us hope we do not meet anyone on the steps. Hand to hand combat with a rail is dangerous enough,’ Coinin puffed.

  Further up, the braziers were replaced with flaming torches due to the restriction of space and they were at least thankful of that.

  ‘I see the top.’ Aniol grinned happily.

  ‘Thank Rindor for that,’ Coinin said.

  A final twist of stairs and they were indeed at the top. A simple wooden slatted door, complete with handle and keyhole barred entry.

  Aniol instinctively dropped to her knee and peeped through the keyhole. No key was present, but the hole gave her a clear view along a deserted corridor. ‘It’s clear,’ she whispered. She stood and tried the door handle, and to her surprise, it opened without so much as a squeak. She grinned at Coinin and edged carefully into the corridor beyond.

  Her footsteps were amplified in the quietness, and she feared that someone would hear and come running. She tiptoed as carefully as possible, Coinin in tow beyond, who checked behind every so often.

  The wooden floor creaked and cracked as they headed deeper into the belly of the castle.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Coinin whispered.

  ‘I figured that the throne room would be a good start. From there we should be able to orientate ourselves,’ Aniol replied.

  ‘How do you know where it is?’

  ‘It’s in the middle of the castle, I know that much. I made it my business to study a map of the interior before we came.’

  Coinin looked at Aniol adoringly. ‘You amaze me, Aniol.’

  Aniol blushed in the dim light of the hallway and turned away. ‘Come on.’

  They passed the kitchens and servants quarters and found everything quiet, to their happiness. The plain stone walls were, in comparison to the temple, dull and lifeless, with no paintings or other decorations.

  Coinin was worried, however. They had seen hide nor hair of guards on patrol. Were they walking into a trap?

  Aniol stopped and gestured for him to wait while she crept over to a double arched door in front of them. There, she bent double and peered through another keyhole. Satisfied, she stood upright and gestured to Coinin to
join her. ‘The throne room is beyond those doors. We can sneak inside and hide behind the throne’s podium.’

  ‘For what purpose?’ Coinin argued. ‘There surely won’t be anyone in there at this hour.’

  ‘I saw two guards patrolling. There may be more people inside,’ Aniol countered.

  Coinin acquiesced and gestured for her to continue.

  Aniol tiptoed forward as stealthily as she could and opened the great door a crack. She peered through the gap and heard voices. She recoiled for a moment and waited. Happy she had not been detected, she opened the door wider and stepped through, urging Coinin to follow her quickly. He did so, and Aniol closed the door as quietly as possible.

  The clinking of glasses and the murmurings of a drunken song could be heard beyond the podium. They both crept forward in the shadows and hid behind the throne and waited several seconds.

  The coast was clear, and so Aniol peered carefully from her vantage point and saw to her surprise that a dozen or more orcs were lounging at tables, one was even laid upon a table happily drinking ale. They were, perhaps, bigger than Len’i, and she felt a shiver run down her spine at the thought of messing with these warriors.

  Two of the orcs were drunkenly arm wrestling, with neither winning, while another officiated. There was considerable mirth, and one of the orcs closest to them was complaining bitterly. It was only after the mirth subsided that Coinin and Aniol could hear what was being said.

  The orc took a long swig of ale from a pewter jug. ‘Leads an army to the temple without me, does he? Casts me aside like some ... I’ll not be havin’ it. I’m ‘is captain, I is. Mark my words, I’ll be king afore the days out.’

  Aniol retreated to her hiding spot and even in the darkness looked ashen white.

  ‘What is it, Aniol?’ Coinin looked concerned.

  Aniol looked ready to cry. ‘We’re too late. Lordich is already leading an army to the temple.’

  THE HISTORICAL RECORD OF EVENTS AT THE APPROACH OF THE NORTHERN EQUINOX

  1498 RU’UN W - 1500 RINTAMESH A

  Penned by Chief Scribe Polinus