Rhune Shadow

by Vaughn Heppner

  “Keep cringing before him,” Himilco warned himself.

  He tucked away a knife and took a second sip of wine. Then, he put on sturdy boots, pinned on a cloak and scanned the landscape for sign of the Rhune. The cold moon and the stars bathed the desert in a silvery light. The Rhune could be anywhere. She belonged to the night. He hurried outside to the others.

  Nasamons lifted corpse-like barbarians from the coffins and laid them on the cold sand. Others plucked the beetles from their foreheads and tinkled the vile insects into glass jars. Still others brought water, bread and meat for the awakening warriors. Not all the Gepids had survived the process, or perhaps their berserk actions in Mogador had been more than deathlike slumber could heal.

  Himilco hurried past them to Ophion’s wagon. Two automatons climbed out of the open door. They clanked as they walked, and the round blades of their strange swords buzzed from time to time in a threatening manner. Himilco stumbled away from them as the blades ominously rotated in place.

  “I will have need of their strength tonight,” Ophion said.

  Himilco whirled around.

  The dragon held the glass cube from Ankey’s Temple in one of his talons. The insides of the cube swirled with movement.

  With a shock, Himilco realized where he had seen such motion before: in the black obsidian block in Bel Ruk’s inner sanctum.

  “Do you recognize this?” Ophion asked. The dragon squatted on his hindquarters. He used his front talons to hold the cube and the weapon that was similar to a large Sivishean crossbow but without the bow.

  “You shot me with it before, Great One.”

  “It has different settings tonight,” the dragon said.

  Himilco looked confused.

  “I can use it to stun or to kill,” Ophion said. “If I use it tonight, it will kill.”

  “Yes, Great One,” Himilco said, bowing his head.

  “You must obey me exactly and promptly this night.”

  “What must I do, Great One?”

  The dragon eyed him. “You will help me open an ancient pathway.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “I think you do, priest. You are clever and deceitful. I know your ways, Himilco. You will do what you must in order to live. Tonight, many will die, but you will survive—if you obey me in everything.”

  “What shall be my reward, Great One?”

  “Yesss,” Ophion said. “I have chosen well. Stay by my side, priest. I want you where I can kill you. We are about to enter another Temple of Ankey.”

  “The Prophetess called this a Shrine of Bel Ruk.”

  “Did she?” The dragon opened his fanged mouth. “The Prophetess was deceived in many ways.”

  Himilco blinked several times. “You spoke to her at this shrine?”

  “How could I do such a thing from deep under the Temple Mount?” Ophion said in a mocking manner.

  “That would be impossible,” Himilco lied. He’d seen too many strange marvels to wonder about far-speaking. In some fashion, Ophion must have tricked the Prophetess. Could the origin of the Nasamon conquest lie with Ophion?

  “Do not seek to learn too much,” the dragon warned him. “Now come. We have much to do this night.”

  -21-

  In the darkness, Elissa crept back to the wagons and the monumental ruin. It was larger than the Temple of Bel Ruk in Karchedon. In the sands lay half-buried statues of dragons and other mythical creatures. The head of what seemed like the biggest stared into the wasteland, the sand coming up to the base of its stone eyeballs.

  The ruin seemed to lie on its side, as if long-ago, an earthquake had shifted the ground under the base.

  She witnessed the Nasamons guiding staggering Gepids into the depths of the ancient ruin. The Gray Wolf followed two walking automatons. Behind them strode Himilco and the dragon.

  While growing up in Karchedon, her father used to tell her bizarre stories. He’d spoken once about an ancient war to the south of Karchedon. The war had sounded like a fairytale, much different from the history lessons he gave her. The Great Sand Belt had once been a pleasant land, with fields, cattle, cities and lakes. Then, priests had delved into forbidden arts. They had discovered the existence of another realm, another world apart from theirs. With sorceries and pre-human sciences, they had created gateways and entered the otherworldly realm. The creatures of the other world had pretended friendship at first, until one day they boiled out of the gateways as conquerors. A war of fantastic and destructive power had commenced, with sorceries and occult sciences used to blast the others. Finally, a day of incredible annihilation occurred, obliterating the priests, their temples, cities and even their land, turning it into the Great Sand Belt.

  Was the dragon out there one of those ancient creatures? What relation did he bear to Bel Ruk?

  Elissa studied the ruin. It appeared as if everyone had entered within. Suddenly, an eldritch light appeared from the structure’s depths. There was a hum from within.

  “Mogador,” she whispered. She had heard a similar hum from the Temple of Ankey as the blue nimbus had shone around the building and grounds.

  Elissa dug the short-handled spear from her pack. She hefted it and considered the grim runes on the black blade. The priests of Ankey had hidden this weapon in Mogador’s lagoon. Did the blade have enough power to slay a dragon?

  She considered her options. She had come this far. It was time to finish this. With a bound, she raced for the ruins.

  Soon, she reached the entrance. With great stealth, she entered the ancient temple. Their dusty footprints were easy to follow. They led through large corridors and chambers. She heard them then, even as the hum increased in volume. Her grip on the spear tightened as she slunk toward the sound. Using her skills, she eased near a corner and carefully peered around. The sight startled her.

  There was a huge chamber with many fallen plinths and metal structures scattered on the stone floor. The two automatons lifted blocks of stone, maneuvering them into position. The Gray Wolf helped them. The chieftain held a strange knife—and he cut stone and metal with it! That was a marvel indeed. The knife cut stone as if it were milk curds. The Gray Wolf effortlessly made the slices as he helped the automatons clear wreckage. A central pillar glowed with a blue color, a type of glow she had first seen in Mogador. The dragon was near the pillar, with Himilco at his side. The sorcerer’s sweaty face was bathed in the weird blue light.

  The Gepids and Nasamons stood farther away in a sunken area. The Gepids blinked stupidly, and the smaller Nasamons steadied them.

  What did the dragon hope to achieve by all this?

  The dragon spoke. The automatons stiffened, left what they were doing and clanked to the glowing pillar.

  “Now you must cast your spell,” the dragon told Himilco. “Can you read the hieroglyphs on the pillar?”

  Himilco looked up at the pillar. “I cannot decipher their meaning, Great One.”

  “I did not think you would,” the dragon said. “Fortunately, I can. So you must listen carefully.” The dragon proceeded to study the pillar and whisper to the traitor. After a time, the dragon asked, “Can you remember that?”

  “Yes, Great One.”

  “Give me the knife,” the dragon told the Gray Wolf.

  After the barbarian obeyed, one of the automatons gripped the chieftain’s wrists and swung them behind the warrior’s massive back, holding securely. The other automaton watched Himilco. Clearly, the dragon distrusted the sorcerer, which showed the creature had some wisdom.

  “Begin the spell,” the dragon said.

  “Great One, I will need—”

  “Blood,” the dragon said. “Yes, I know.” The monster aimed his crossbow-like device at the Gepids and Nasamons in the pit. A milky beam emanated from it. The humans cried out in surprise and pain, for the beam cut their bodies in half in a spray of blood and burned flesh.

  “Begin!” the dragon commanded.

  The Gray Wolf howled with fury, and he tried
to free himself. He could do nothing against the automation’s metal strength, however.

  Himilco stared at the dead and dying men in the pit. It had been a quick and grisly slaughter. An oily smoke billowed and drifted near, carrying a nauseating stench. The traitor lifted his arms, holding his staff, and he began to chant.

  The hum from the pillar intensified into a high-pitched whine. The pillar’s blue glow deepened. Then, the glow detached itself from the pillar and began to spread outward.

  Elissa clamped her hands over her ears as the whine became unbearable. Would it quit as it had in the Temple of Ankey?

  There was a strange ripping sound, and it appeared as if something parted within the blue nimbus. A red light shone through the rip, and a strange odor began to fill the chamber.

  “Avernus!” the dragon shouted. “It is time to leave this world.”

  The dragon aimed his device at Himilco. The sorcerer appeared to argue. The dragon waved his claw-held device and spoke again. Himilco’s shoulders slumped and he walked through the blue nimbus and into the red-colored realm. The automatons followed, his holder forcing the Gray Wolf through. Lastly, the dragon trotted through the rent in the air.

  Elissa blinked in wonder. She was deep in the Great Sand Belt. Was there enough water in the wagons for her to survive a trip back to the oasis? She didn’t even know in what direction the oasis lay.

  In this moment, she must decide what to do.

  “I am a Rhune,” Elissa whispered, and she was in the middle of an assassination. Plucking up her courage, Elissa moved around the corner and sprinted toward the opening into the red-colored realm of Avernus.

  -22-

  An explosion occurred behind Himilco. He whirled around in dismay. It came from the rocks where they had entered this hellish realm. Two black sentinel stones blew apart in a shower of granite. The blue glow was gone…as, apparently, was their link to Dar Sai.

  “No,” Himilco moaned.

  In the starless dark sky above, a single red pinwheel slowly rotated. It was like a sun or a moon, but it was eerily different from anything Himilco had ever known. Weak red rays emanated from it. To his left in the far distance was a vast lake of fire with giant licking flames. To the right and much closer was a great green tower with awful hieroglyphics glowing on its side. Ahead of them were dimly glowing gray hills.

  “It is done,” Ophion said.

  “How will I return to Dar Sai?” Himilco asked.

  “You can suffer my fate,” Ophion said.

  Himilco didn’t like the sound of that. He stared at the dragon blankly, feigning stark fear. No doubt, the dragon expected it from him.

  “Can you imagine being alone and stranded in a world of savages?” Ophion asked. “I have survived a millennia trapped on your filthy world. In time, I found refuge in the tunnels I fashioned deep under the Temple Mount. There, I taught myself sorcery, and there I pieced together what had happened to our invasion of your realm.”

  “Great One, I just want to return home.”

  “Avernus is a junction between many worlds,” Ophion said, seemingly lost in his memories. “Some like Bel Ruk reside in this limbo-like place. He lives in the nearby tower,” Ophion said, pointing at the green spire. “He leeches off the worship and blood of the humans sacrificed to him. Ever since the construction of the obsidian block in Karchedon…”

  With a clawed talon, Ophion unhooked a tablet from a belt around his vast reptilian body. The tablet shined a red light on his snout and eyes, as he seemed to read it. “This is not good. I had thought Bel Ruk gorged to insensibility. It appears the so-called god has become aware of us. We must hurry before he comes to investigate.”

  Himilco stared fearfully at the nearby tower. Listening to Bel Ruk speak as he had possessed a human was a frightening experience. The idea of meeting Bel Ruk in person, as he truly was in his place of power…Himilco wanted no part of that. What he needed was more knowledge. For once, the dragon was in a talkative mood. He needed to exploit that.

  “Why did the Prophetess say she needed the gateway in Karchedon?” Himilco asked meekly.

  “What?” Ophion asked. The dragon was hunched on his hindquarters as he stared at his tablet.

  “The Prophetess said she needed our gateway.”

  “I needed her to feed Bel Ruk,” Ophion said, looking over. “Zarius was too cunning to listen to the god’s pleading for sacrifices. For any of this to work, I had to lull Bel Ruk by engorging him with blood. That would make him fat and sate him so he would be sluggish in this realm. The reason for that should be obvious to you now. Bel Ruk would forbid me passage back to my world.”

  “If all this is so, why did Bel Ruk let you go to Mogador?”

  “Surely, you must understand,” Ophion said. “Gods and men make foolish decisions as their arrogance grows. Bel Ruk has gained strength with the mass feeding of blood. I told him I would recover lost artifacts for him in Mogador that would increase the range of his will on Dar Sai. I gave him reason to believe me.”

  “Can we return to Karchedon through Bel Ruk’s obsidian gateway?”

  “Haven’t you been listening to me, priest? The gateway lies by Bel Ruk’s Tower. I am heading to a different gateway, one back to my own world. There, I shall marshal the legions of Eich. The priests of Ankey who fought and defeated us once no longer possess their former knowledge or power. We shall return to Dar Sai as conquerors.”

  “You said you would reward me, Great One.”

  Ophion grinned in his dragon manner, revealing his fangs. “I pay in the same coin you do, Himilco Nara: perfidious treachery. Now, it is time to march. We must hurry. There is still time.”

  ***

  Elissa stared at the crimson wheel in the otherwise dark, starless sky. The wheel rotated, and it filled this vile land with a dull red glow.

  The land was rocky with a porous, lava-like stone. It was bleak and alien, the air so close it muffled sounds. To her, it felt as if she moved through a monstrously large cave or an underworld. With the distant lake of fire, maybe this was Hell. Yes, this was the land of demons.

  Elissa gripped the short-handled spear as she tried to rein in her imagination.

  Pretend this is the Land of Shadows, Rhune. Yes, pretend you’re home, and that this will be your greatest feat of assassination.

  Maybe the troubadour had trained her for such a day as this.

  Elissa rose up, using rocks and boulders, trying to flank the dragon. The beast Ophion gloated to Himilco Nara.

  Feeling the weight of her magical weapon, Elissa debated whom to strike. Twice, she had let the traitorous priest escape with his life. It would be joyous to sink the black rune-spear into his spine. Yet, she had heard the dragon’s words. His deep voice carried clearly even here in the close air.

  Could the monster marshal the legions of Eich, whatever those were? Elissa eased up from behind a boulder. The dragon sat hunched on its hindquarters, looking like a gigantic hound. Ophion had his back to her, although the folded wings were in the way of a clean stab from behind.

  The metal men held Himilco and the Gray Wolf, keeping them in front of the dragon.

  I must strike now. I must do it before I lose my courage. I am the assassin, the Rhune.

  Elissa shifted, slowly easing around the boulder. The dragon was a little over one hundred feet away. That was an agonizingly long distance here. If the dragon turned at any time, it could launch itself airborne. Then it could use that weapon that shot the milky beams to destroy her.

  The dragon spoke. The metal men began to march, pushing their two captives. The dragon rose and began to follow the others.

  Elissa swallowed in a tight throat. She blinked slowly. Then, she darted from behind the porous boulder and dashed at the dragon. Her speed increased, and her stride lengthened. She gained ground, and then one of her cat-soft boots dislodged a stone so it shot and rattled over rocky ground.

  The dragon swung its head back. The large eyes widened. In a moment, the win
gs unfolded. The dragon’s legs coiled underneath itself.

  Something powerful welled in Elissa’s chest. Her mind worked quickly and furiously. She would never reach the dragon in time. She had one chance then, one hope—and she took it.

  Elissa threw the short-handled spear. Clearly, whoever had forged it had intended it for hand-to-hand fighting. The spear wobbled in flight. The dragon leaped. Its wings snapped thunderously, and the spear struck its scaly side even as it rose.

  The event should have conspired differently. The force of the throw, the wobble, the dragon’s upward motion—the spear should have struck, perhaps nicking the beast, but then falling away. That didn’t happen. The black spearhead had become molten-seeming during flight. It burned into the dragon’s side, and the creature’s blood gushed crimson.

  The beat of the dragon’s wings became disjointed. Ophion’s neck stretched out to its fullest, and he bellowed in pain. The dragon crashed onto the rocky ground. It bounced up, and it thrashed wildly. Items flew off it. Then, its legs kicked and its wings contorted as the giant beast began to flop around in mortal agony.

  Elissa’s mind was still in its heightened state. She raced for the strange knife, having seen its powers in the Gray Wolf’s hand. She had use for the knife, and she believed that speed was now of the essence.

  ***

  Himilco twisted his head to see how the dragon fared. Throughout the fight, the automatons kept marching away. They forced the Gray Wolf and Himilco to head toward the hills.

  “What’s happening?” Himilco shouted.

  The Gray Wolf managed to half turn. “The dragon is dying, I think. The Rhune kneels on the ground, watching him.”

  “Help us!” Himilco shouted. The automaton forced him to continue marching.

  Several minutes later, there came a metallic screech, and the Gray Wolf’s automaton staggered.

  Himilco twisted in his automaton’s grip. Elissa Magonid was using the knife of Ankey—the baan—carving metal from an automaton. In a short span of time, she freed the Gray Wolf. Then, she did the same for Himilco, leaving metal automaton parts on granite stone.