by Joni Green
When he awoke a few hours later, he gazed at the remnants of his warriors. The battlefield was strewn with body parts. A fight to the death for every single one of them. Kelda shook his head.
How could this have happened?
The extent of the carnage was sickening to his battle-hardened stomach.
What had possessed his men to do this?
Kelda’s shoulders slumped. He was just about to give over to dying despair when a strange pink haze appeared on the horizon. When it dissolved, the great castle walls shimmered before his eyes like a heat mirage.
“Corlac,” he muttered.
What great wizard was responsible?
Kelda turned toward the towering structure. He looked like a tiny speck topping the far hill, slowly making his way toward the castle’s gate.
Chapter 39
Free Grog – It’s on Me
The cold moonlight shines upon your skin,
And I will come on whispering winds.
They will not rally when they hear your screams.
They stay inside and shiver,
Glad I have not come for them.
*****
When Kelda walked across the drawbridge, there seemed to be a great festival going on. The musicians were playing quick, happy tunes. The peasants were singing and dancing. There was a great stand built in the center of the grounds. Sitting proudly on the top row was the King and Queen. Kelda noticed a young, bewildered-looking man sitting in the middle of the royal couple.
He was obviously a commoner. The fine robe he wore did not fit. The look on the young man’s face told Kelda that he was miserable.
“Is this the wizard who destroyed my men and saved the castle?” Kelda said to no one.
“His name is Perdix,” said a handsome young man standing near Kelda. “Look at him. He looks as uncomfortable as a lamb in a lion’s cage.”
“You dislike our friend who sits exalted high?” asked Kelda.
“Hah. The man is a fake. A fraud. A charlatan. And he fools the Queen into thinking he’s a great man. Convinced her he’s performed some kind of miracle that saved the realm. I’ve been here the whole time, my friend. I can tell you nothing happened. But look at them. She throws herself at his feet like he is a god.”
The young man spat on the ground.
“I agree,” said Kelda. “He appears to be but a minnow, and a scrawny one at that.”
“Let me buy you a pint of grog,” said the friendly young man.
“But this is a festive celebration. Grog is free,” said Kelda.
“A minor detail. Come. The grog’s on me.”
Chapter 40
The Lucky Man
When you lie down and say your prayers
Remember,
I take no heed.
For I have needs.
A demon thirst
A pale cold blast,
I drink my fill.
And leave the graveyard littered.
*****
“The King’s a lucky man,” Kelda said.
They were halfway through their third cup of grog. The handsome man sharing his company was as chatty as a magpie. Kelda had learned much.
His eyes kept wandering toward the Queen. She was a beauty. In fact, Kelda thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“Her skin is so soft and pale,” the warrior said.
“Mine would be too if all I had to do was stay holed up in my finely furnished chamber and count my jewels.”
“I cannot take my eyes off her,” Kelda said. “It is almost as if she has cast a spell on me, and I am besotted by love.”
“Tipsy on grog is more like it. My name’s Dyryke. Call me a former favorite of her Royal Fickledness.”
“You do not speak as a loyal subject,” said Kelda.
“My loyalties lay with me.”
“I see,” said Kelda.
Dyryke looked up at Perdix sitting awkwardly between the royal couple. He grit his teeth and drained the grog from his cup.
“The little wizard looks as if a turd is lodged and won’t come out,” said Kelda.
He laughed heartily at his joke.
“He is not a wizard. Not an alchemist, either,” said Dyryke.
“If he is a fraud, why is he sitting up there and you down here with me?”
“Fyke,” said Dyryke. “I don’t know. I am too drunk to untangle your riddles.”
“But not too drunk to hatch the egg and watch it fall to earth and crash into a million pieces?” Kelda said over the edge of his cup.
Kelda watched as the drunken Dyryke attempted to make sense of what he’d just said.
“Do you want to see the miserable one wallowing in ashes and ruin?” Kelda said.
“Of course,” said Dyryke. “I’d like nothing better.”
An oily grin spread across Kelda’s dirty, bearded face.
“And you can throw in crowned partridge while you’re at it, too.”
“Ahh,” said Kelda. “That is an excellent idea.”
Chapter 41
The Long Night
How pale you look
The neighbors say.
You turn away.
The mark of Cain you bear.
*****
“We will sleep on this ledge and make our way to the entrance of the caves tomorrow,” said Perdix.
Xhahari spread a coarse blanket against the edge of the small hollow in the rocks.
“Do you think it will rain?” he asked.
“The clouds bank high. They are heavy with moisture. I think the chances are good we will get good and drenched tonight.”
“Then, let we will eat and settle in for a long night.”
“A long night, indeed,” said Perdix.
Xhahari chewed the hard dried bread. It did little to kill the hunger pangs that clawed the lining of his stomach.
“Tell me more,” said the youth.
“More?”
“You have witnessed so many things in your life, Master. The lessons you have learned will benefit me. Tell me more.”
*****
The blanket spell had worked better than Perdix could have imagined. He was relieved that the danger had passed. All the omens revealed this truth. But he loathed the gratitude the Queen now thought she owed him.
“I am honored, Your Majesty,” Perdix said. “But I do not feel it is my place to sit on the bench with the King and Your Highness. I would feel like a hog sitting between the holy seraphs.”
“Nonsense,” said the Queen. “I am forever in your debt. You have answered my call so many times. The King is indebted to you, as well. He desires your presence during the great festival. It is the least we can do for you.”
“I am your humble servant,” Perdix said, bowing his head and returning to his chamber.
The whole day had been an ordeal, but somehow Perdix had gotten through it. When he returned to his workbench that night, it was with a sigh of relief that he busied himself with his latest experiment.
He was deep in a trancelike state when the sound of a woman’s scream shattered his concentration and completely destroyed the spell he was in the middle of completing.
*****
“When I ran down the hallway, I bumped into Dyryke,” said Perdix. “It was the middle of the night. I couldn’t figure out why he would be haunting those corridors at that ungodly hour. He had a strange look on his face. Little did I know, Xhahari, that my adversary was mortally wounded.”
“But why was the Queen murdered? No one has ever been able to give me a reason that makes good sense.”
“You are wise beyond your years. The Ichor came for the Queen, but Dyryke killed her before the demon could make her one of Evil’s clan.”
“And the Ichor killed him because of that?”
“I believe so,” said Perdix.
“Then, Dyryke is a hero,” Xhahari said.
“Far from it,” the alchemist said. “Dyryke was the reason the Ichor ended up in the Que
en’s chamber in the first place.”
Chapter 42
The Raging Torrents
You think your locks and walls protect you.
*****
The storms blew in just before dawn. Perdix and Xhahari were soaked. There was nowhere to hide from the torrential sheets of water that poured down. The gales whipped the rain inside the little grotto with hurricane force. There was nothing to do but tuck their heads down and wait out the storm.
Xhahari’s teeth chattered. They were chilled to the bone. Perdix began coughing. Xhahari prayed earnestly that the old man would survive the blast.
“We should have stayed home,” he muttered.
It was only a passing thought that sprung from his lips before he could stop it. But Xhahari was certain the softness of his voice and the roar of the wind prevented the old man’s ears from discerning what he’d said.
“No,” said Perdix. “Fate decreed that this journey be made.”
He did not raise his head, and Xhahari’s heart dropped to hear the rattling cough that came at the end of the old man’s words.
At last the winds abated. The rains ceased.
“We must make haste,” the old man said.
The sun was shining brilliantly. Both men were blinded by its radiant glare. They tied their bundles to their backs and began the steep climb. Neither man said a word, concentrating instead on the arduous progress up the mountain peak.
At last, they reached the ledge to the entrance of Rotou.
“That cough threatens to strangle you, Master,” said Xhahari. “Don’t you have a spell to stop it?”
“I am alright,” said Perdix.
He reached beneath his tunic and pulled the vial out that was tied to the string around his neck.
“I want you to take this,” Perdix said, starting to untie the knot of the string.
“No, Master,” said Xhahari.
“But you don’t know what it is,” said the old man.
“I know exactly what it is,” said Xhahari. “I am not in need of it. But if that cough worsens, you may well have to drink it to live.”
“But I am an old man who has lived a very good life,” said Perdix.
“And I am a young one who may need the help of a wiser soul to guide me out of these caves.”
“I will keep it for you, then,” said Perdix.
Xhahari smiled.
“I remember you said these caves had a curtain that prevented you from entering,” said Xhahari.
“They did,” said Perdix. “But it seems that the veil has been lifted. Careful, son. Be very careful. I do not trust this place.”
“I will practice caution, Master. Here. Let me take some of the load from you. Your back is bent and mine barely feels the load.”
Xhahari took some of the bundles from Perdix and tied them onto his back.
“These caves take your breath away,” said Xhahari.
“Remember. Do not be deceived by their beauty. They are like the polceti. You must be very careful. Use the utmost caution.”
Chapter 43
The Library
It does no good to fight.
To think that you can flee.
Every living soul
Will soon belong to me.
*****
They had traveled a great distance into the interior of the caves. Xhahari was delighted when they stumbled upon a large chamber filled with crystals of all shapes and colors and sizes.
“Look, Master,” he said, “it is the library of The Celestial Intelligence.”
“You may be right, Xhahari.”
“Let us harvest all that we can carry,” said Perdix.
Xhahari gleefully began picking up beautiful specimens by the handfuls. Perdix was choosier. He made his way to the far corner of the grotto, bent down, and picked up four crystals – one red, one yellow, one green, and one blue.
“Master,” Xhahari said, “I must have that one.”
Xhahari was standing on a small ledge near a large crystal that hung about six feet from the ground. His fingers just grasped the beautiful stone when the rock he was standing on gave way with a sickening cracking sound.
“No,” Perdix yelled.
It was too late. The lad disappeared over the side of the abyss. Perdix scrambled to the edge and looked down into the bottomless pit of blackness. Xhahari was nowhere to be seen.
He dropped his forehead on the cool rock. A racking cough tore through his body.
“It is hopeless,” he cried.
Perdix’s sobs echoed off the walls of the empty chamber.
“I cannot do this anymore.”
He groaned loudly as his stiff joints slowly obeyed the commands of his brain. His steps were slow and painful. When he came to the intersection that led out of the cave, he mistakenly took the wrong tunnel. He failed to notice.
He walked several hundred yards when he came upon a large chamber with a sky hole. A clear green reflecting pool shimmered before him. The sun shone on the glassy surface. Perdix came to the edge and looked at his reflection.
A wrinkled, gray face stared back at him.
“I am tired,” he said softly, rippling the still water with his finger. “Just so tired.”
How inviting it looked. How wonderful, he thought, to let its crystal waters drown all sorrows.
One more step and it would all be over.
He raised his foot and leaned forward.
A man’s laughter bounced off the walls of the cavern.
The old man’s foot stopped its trek in midair.
Before he even turned around, Perdix knew who it was. Nobody else in all the world laughed like that. It was the mocking chuckle of Dyryke.
Chapter 44
The Healer
There is a knock upon your door.
Friend or foe?
You do not know.
And if you open
Who comes in?
A little child?
Bloodsucker?
Friend?
*****
“I knew that one day Fortune would abandon you,” he said. “And I thank my lucky stars I’m here to witness it.”
“You look well,” said Perdix.
“And you look like scite.”
“I feel like it, too,” Perdix said.
“Let me remedy that,” Dyryke said, rushing the old man with lightning speed. “I will gladly give to you what you have given me.”
He tackled Perdix to the ground and opened his mouth wide and glistening white fangs shown sharp and deadly. His eyes were crescents of malevolence. The Ichor was strong and the bloodlust burned fiery hot.
Great drops of saliva dropped from Dyryke’s watering mouth on the old man’s face. They burned into Perdix’s skin like acid.
The old man screamed. A ragged cough tore from his lungs.
“Weak and dying,” Dyryke yelled in Perdix’s face. “What a pity. I must act fast before the Life Force ebbs from your sputtering heart. You are no good to me if you are dead.”
The blood pounded in Perdix’s skull. What to do? He must think of something fast.
He felt the vice-like grip of Dyryke’s pallid claws chew into the muscles of his arms. There was no escape.
The old man’s hand trembled. He reached for the pouch where the magic crystals were hidden. He fumbled with the knot, spilling the crystals upon the stone floor.
“Ahh,” said Dyryke. “I see you’ve found the library of The Celestial Intelligence. But it is hopeless. You will never destroy me.”
With that Dyryke stepped back, bent over double and stood up. Perdix looked up from where he lay on the ground and yelped in surprise.
“Fye,” whispered Perdix.
“Do not be alarmed, dear friend. It is really me. I am content to dwell here, Perdix. In fact, I’ve never had such a handsome lover before.” she said.
“Fye,” he said.
The racking cough returned. Perdix put his arm up to his mouth. When he dropped it, thick blood
stains smeared his sleeve.
It was too much for the vampire to stand. Fye’s face dissolved into thin air, and Dyryke’s evil eyes bore into the alchemist. He kneeled closer, and Perdix felt the vampire’s hot breath on his face.
“Do not think I was fooled by your little trick,” the old man said. “Fye was gone the instant you swallowed her. A thousand times a thousand I have wished it was not so. I cannot change the past. I can only live with my regret.”
“Regret nothing, old man. The witch will never die. I owe her a great debt. Without her magic blood, the spell that brings me life would have been in vain.”
“I am an old fool,” said Perdix. “But I would rather have the hag beside me now than think of her locked inside the purgatory of your wicked heart.”
“But she would die, you fool.”
“And she would then know peace,” said Perdix.
“Peace is for simpletons who do not know better.”
Dyryke laughed again.
“I am just a simple man,” said Perdix. “If that condemns me, so be it. But I would rather lay this body down and sleep in peace. The tasks that are before me do not bring me joy. There’s murder in my heart. The Ichor I must kill so Man may live.”
“Do you think I tremble at your words? Hah. You are a healer not a killer, remember?”
Dyryke swiped across Perdix’s face. A jagged claw-like nail caught the lid of Perdix’s yellow eye. Tears flowed profusely.
As Perdix let the yellow tears fall into his palm, Dyryke went for the kill. He ripped the high collar of the old man’s tunic and jumped back.
“I should have known,” said Dyryke.
It was only a second’s hesitation, but it was all the time the alchemist needed. He grabbed the yellow crystal and cupped it in his palm with the yellow tears.
“Perdix,” a woman’s voice said from Dyryke’s lips.
“Fye,” Perdix whispered.