Ritual of the Lost Lamb

by Charles E Yallowitz

  The landscape changes and the three women find themselves back on the cliff, the red eyes returning to peer at them. Sari hurls two daggers at the crimson orbs, lacing the weapons with thin blades of ice. With an angry scream, the Lich is driven away by the rage-fueled attack and the sky brightens at his departure. Slumping to her knees, Kira feels like she is about to throw up and wonders if her body is already succumbing to the nausea. She lets Sari help her stand, but refuses to stop her knees from giving out again. Impatient and uneasy, Dariana returns part of her consciousness to her mind and leaves only a silhouette of herself.

  “I lost another family,” Kira whispers, biting her lip to avoid crying. Abruptly aware of her own words, the heiress is hit by a pang of guilt over talking about herself. “Regardless of their disagreements, Luke loved his family. I know he wanted to become closer to them once his adventures were done, especially his father. We talked about having a home in Haven. They were going to be my family too.”

  “If he saw them die then bringing him to Haven would be too painful,” Sari mutters, letting her anger wash away the sorrow building in her chest. An old memory causes the gypsy to draw a dagger and hand it hilt first to Kira. “When I lost my clan, I swore on my blood that I would avenge them. Technically, Nimby avenged them for me, but I got to see it happen. Still, it gave me focus when the pain was fresh and helped begin my healing. Maybe the same act can work you.”

  Kira pushes the weapon away and wipes her tears away with dirt-caked fingers. “Thank you, but I don’t want to do that. Give me some time alone and I’ll have my mask back on. That doesn’t mean I’m okay with this or feeling better. All it means is that I’m going to hold onto my pain and rage. Let it fester and grow until I have something worth unleashing it on. Then I’m going to release everything I have and take something from the Baron.”

  “What will that be?”

  “Whoever is stupid enough to stand between me and Luke.”

  Color returns to the world as Kira and Sari awaken to find themselves resting back to back on the cliff. The gypsy sees the dagger is still in her hand and tucks it into her skirt pocket before returning to the dark pool. A sharp voice carries through the trees as she snaps at the Lich, his cackle more irritating than before. Too drained to remain sitting without support, Kira flops into the dirt and stares at the azure sky. Pounding her fist against the ground, she lets her tears flow down her cheeks and clenches her jaw. She wants nothing more than to scream and release her frustration at losing more loved ones, but knows the sound would be delicious music to the Lich’s ears.

  *****

  “Is this really necessary?” Nimby asks while examining the thick rope around his body. Not in the mood for games, he wriggles out of the bindings and tosses them back to Kira. “Give me more credit than that. Besides, you need the Lich to finish the dark pool. I don’t know the incantation or gestures, so he has to be involved. Unless one of you two wants to attempt necrocasting without training.”

  “Told you he’d get out of that,” Sari whispers as she sits on a nearby rock. Turning the final herb in her hands, she sniffs at the violet leaves that smell faintly of cinnamon. “Can we get on with this? I don’t think General Vile is going to be happy to see any of us. So, I’m expecting him to be difficult.”

  “Want me to stand over here and look intimidating?” Kira asks while wrapping her chain around her arm. She flicks her arm to lash out with the sickle and club, both sides moving comfortably. “He’s never seen me before, so maybe he’ll think I’m a threat. Just have to be silent and stare angrily at him.”

  The Lich laughs with enough force to shake Nimby’s arm and pop every joint in the flailing limb. “When he was alive, General Vile challenged ogres and trolls for fun. I doubt his courage has weakened in death. Then again, he might very well be terrified of a young woman trained more for ballroom dancing than battle. We were never the closest of friends, so what do I know about the man?"

  “Finish the dark pool, Tyler,” Sari says, placing the herb in the halfling’s fleshy hand. She takes Kira by the wrist and moves her to a stump she can sit on. “You’re tired, impatient, and looking for a fight. I don’t want to put a sleep spell on you, but I will if it means this will be over quickly. Considering the bags under your eyes, a nap might do you some good. Sorry if I’m coming off as blunt, but neither of us want any last minute disasters.”

  “I understand and will behave.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re very well-trained.”

  “The annoying thing is that I did spend more years learning how to dance than to fight.”

  “I should mention that time is running out!” the Lich shouts while pruning the violet plant over the pool. The surface foams and ripples as the final ingredient merges with rest of the mixture. “We only have a few minutes left. Failure means we have to go back to the Oakind for more or give up.”

  Sari gestures for the Lich to finish making the dark pool and draws her stiletto for comfort more than protection. The necrocaster’s voice is a horrific combination of his own and Nimby’s, which causes the two women to cringe. The incantation reverberates through the trees, which gives their bark a sickly pallor that stands in contrast to their vibrant leaves. Black worms seep out of the earth and squirm into the murky water, their bodies melting into a thick tar. The bubbling surface is sucked into a swirling eddy that reveals dead-eyed fish and horned serpents within the pond’s abyssal depths. Screams erupt from below as a pinprick of light appears in the middle of the dark pool and grows until it is large enough to consume a full grown orc. Twenty skeletal hands grip the edges of the opening and become encased in tar, which stabilizes the portal and turns it even blacker than the water.

  With a loud rip, the blade of a shortsword punctures the gateway from the other side and plunges into the hardened edge. A short figure pulls itself out of the muck to stand on top of the dark pool, its white eye rapidly blinking until the orb turns a brownish yellow. The tar steadily sloughs off to reveal a halfling in chainmail, which has a collection of broken links above the heart. Missing his right eye, the ghostly soldier presses a handful of the viscous portal into the hole. An acidic hiss and the smell of burning plants fills the clearing as the muck becomes a studded patch of metal fused to his ethereal skin. Pulling on his leather gloves, General Vile walks to the shore and extends his hand to Nimby. The thief refuses to accept the suspiciously friendly offer, but a glint of sadness in his eyes is enough to make his father smile.

  “I believe I owe you sincere congratulations for killing me, son,” the soldier says in a distant voice. With a harsh cough, the summoned spirit clears his throat of a lump of solid magic and massages his threat. “Seeing as we had our falling out, you may be happy to know that I remain unclaimed. Where I am is not important, but it is unpleasant. Yet, not as terrible as the place other agents of Baron Kernaghan have gone.”

  “I don’t have anything to say to you,” Nimby claims as he steps away. The sound of his father sighing infuriates him, but biting the inside of his cheek stops him from revealing too much of his anger. “Just know that this wasn’t my idea. Don’t want you thinking we can make amends or that I miss you. You turned me into an assassin without giving me a chance at a different life. That’s the reason I wanted to make sure I was the one who killed you.”

  “I didn’t call you here for a reunion,” the Lich snaps before he is punished with the banging rod. A pulse of magic launches the metal cylinder at a nearby tree where it remains quivering in the bark. “The master has taken Luke Callindor and they want to get him back. As you can see, I don’t have a choice in helping them. Does your path to Shayd still exist?”

  “For some reason, I’m not surprised to see that you are still, so to speak, among the living, Tyler. You never could take a hint and stay dead,” General Vile states as he turns his attention to Sari. Circling the gypsy, he nods his head as if approving of what he sees. “My backdoor remains and the dark pool can be use
d to reach the entrance. Yet, I doubt it will lead directly to the captured champion. That means there is a high risk of the master finding you first. If I am to open the door then I need a guarantee that he won’t come after me. In my current state, I would be unable to defend myself.”

  “Actually, you have to come with us,” Nimby says, sensing that the Lich wants to tease the soldier some more. A chill weaves along his spine, but he is unable to locate the source of the sensation. “We know the path is difficult and only you are aware of its dangers. That means you’re our guide. If we are found then I’m sure the Baron will consider that you and Tyler are being forced to help us.”

  “He is a benevolent ruler,” the Lich adds with a hint of bitterness in his voice. A chuckle from Sari causes the necrocaster to coat Nimby’s arm in emerald flame and lift the limb toward her. “The Baron is many things, but he is fair to those who swear loyalty. We are rewarded as long as we stay true. My situation would be understandable and forgiven if I was inclined to ask for such things. I have no choice because I’m trapped within Nimby. Vile must help us too because closing the dark pool before he crosses back over would dissolve his spirit. Did I fail to mention that?”

  Sari walks through Vile to get in Nimby’s face, the halfling holding up the possessed arm to let it receive her wrath. “I’m getting tired of you leaving out information. From now on, you tell us everything or I’m hacking you off your host. What I do with you then will depend on where we are. Maybe I’ll dump you into the ocean.”

  “There’s no need to threaten me, Tyler,” Vile says as he stands next to Kira. The heiress jumps when he reaches toward her, which breaks her attempt to appear intimidating. “You always do whatever it takes to survive, which usually involves lying. It appears that you have total control of the situation and my meager existence is in your hands, old corpse. May I make two requests?”

  “Of course, but I won’t necessarily listen.”

  “I ask that you give me a physical body.”

  “One has already been chosen. A new body is another way to avoid destruction when the dark pool is closed.”

  “My second request is that you promise to put my spirit to rest when this is done.”

  The Lich cracks his knuckles and rubs the bronze ring with his thumb, letting the request hang in the air. “Agreed. I will see that you spend the rest of eternity free of suffering. I promise that it is not as ominous as it sounds. Please return to the dark pool, so I can transfer you to your new body. I will grant you extra energy to open the door to your path. This may be rather painful since I’m not at my full strength and need to syphon magic from the land.”

  Cautiously eyeing the necrocaster, General Vile returns to the middle of the dark pool and lets his feet sink into the portal. The Lich hums the beginning of his spell, causing the boney hands to return and grab the halfling’s legs. Needle-like nails pierce the ghost’s energy, which becomes infected with thin, ebony veins. The dark pool swirls and froths, the waves eventually rising high enough to wash over the calm phantom. Half of the tar-like water splashes out of the pond and rises to become a gateway, its pristine surface absorbing the dwindling sunlight. With his mouth opening wide enough to swallow his entire body, General Vile screams and abruptly turns inside out. Appearing as nothing more than a formless blob, the ghost twitches and shrieks in severe agony. The eye-patch falls out of the specter and bursts into flames, which run to the portal and become a flickering frame.

  Once the phantom becomes silent, the Lich pulls a figurine out of his pocket and holds it above his head. The smooth toy resembles the necrocaster’s previous form of a skeletal corpse dressed in black rags. A powerful wind pushes the ghost toward its new body, but the energy attempts to resist the spell. Howls of anger erupt from General Vile until he is sucked into the figurine and locked within its waterstone form. The eyes glow red as the halfling lifts his stiff arms and moves his creaking legs in a walking motion. Swiftly gaining control of the body, he escapes the Lich’s grasp and falls to the ground. More natural joints form within the toy to give Vile a better range of motion and flexibility, but he is too busy staring at the dark clothes that are connected to him with glue. He jumps to his feet and scrambles toward Sari in order to use the reflective surface of her stiletto. The proud soldier touches his face with hands that have very little sensation, making it difficult to believe what he is seeing.

  “You put me in one of these damnable toys,” General Vile growls, his voice a higher pitch than it was in life. He attempts to kick a stone and ends up breaking his foot, which dangles from the ankle. “Even worse, it’s one of you. How am I supposed to fight in this form? What if I am separated from you on the path and need to survive? You irritating, malicious, childish, hollow-headed worm!”

  “My deepest apologies, old soldier, but I couldn’t grab a real body for this,” the Lich replies, causing his host to sneer. Crouching in front of the toy, he casts a spell that repairs the damaged parts and increases his strength. “I doubt my companions would allow me to give you flesh and blood. Not really the heroic thing to do. Sadly, we are both at the whims of kind-hearted fools. Though, I’m sure an honorable and intelligent man like you will adjust better than a creature of shadows like me.”

  “The silver tongue of a bard is still in your mouth, Tyler,” the possessed toy says while testing the flexibility of his arms. Bending at the knee, the warrior jumps two feet in the air and flips to land on his hands. “I believe my former abilities will gradually appear within this pathetic frame. At least to some extent. I need to commandeer someone for a ride because these short legs will prevent me from keeping up with the group. My choice is to stay with Lady Grasdon since she is the only one who I haven’t attempted to kill or, in my son’s case, has killed me.”

  “You also know I’ll destroy you at the slightest provocation,” Sari points out, creating icy claws on her hands. With a swipe, she creates four ice-rimmed furrows in the dirt with the toy standing between two of them. “You led the monsters that slaughtered my clan. I never got the chance to avenge them, but we need you to save Luke. Just remember that once we go through that portal, your importance fades. I’m going to let the Lich’s promise hold, but you will be destroyed at the first sign of betrayal.”

  Kira hops to her feet and scoops up the figurine, who feebly smacks at her hands. “I think that’s enough posturing for now. Let’s get through that portal before we learn that we only have a few minutes before it closes. Am I right, Tyler?”

  “It’s a distinct possibility.”

  Vile is held out to the portal, which shifts to reveal a sandy beach fringed with leafless palm trees. He whispers a word to draw the landscape toward them, an expanding light wiping the jungle away. A second later, the small group finds themselves ankle deep in warm waves that are lapping at a tropical terrain. Climbing up to Kira’s shoulder, the General points ahead and ushers them into the unknown wilderness.

  *****

  “The path has been changed and Luke is in position,” Yola announces while she finishes adjusting the gnarled tree. She admires the small island, which is devoid of life and protected from ships by a nearby reef. “I won’t do too much to him. I just learned that General Vile, Nimby, and Tyler are with Sari and Kira. They’ll be here soon. Do you have any orders or requests?”

  “Nothing more than I have already given,” the Baron replies, his faint form struggling to remain on the island. Sighing from frustration, he sits on a throne that cannot be seen and taps his fingers on the arm. “Make sure our guest continues to watch his world fall apart. I want you to kill his fiancée and do it slowly. That should destroy the final piece of hope that he is pathetically clinging to. This might not be my original plan, but I will work with what I am given. Take care of yourself, Yola, and I will let you know when Walter returns. Oh, and be aware that failure will be met with harsh punishments.”

  The former goddess nods her head and creates a table set for six, the food nothing more than bowls o
f pudding. She looks up to see that the Baron has disappeared, leaving her alone with the unconscious prisoner. Yola perches herself on the back of a wooden chair to watch Luke shudder and mumble incoherently. The half-elf is beaten and bloody, but most of his physical wounds have been healed by the playful immortal. No longer merged completely with the tree, he attempts to twist and push against his bonds. The motions possess very little strength and are done more out of a faint sense of discomfort than a desire to escape. Staring into Luke’s unblinking eyes, Yola sees nothing more than an unnerving emptiness that prevents him from recognizing the world around him. Whenever the champion stops muttering, she stretches her neck to put an ear to his chest and makes sure he is still alive. Her skin ripples in response to the erratic heartbeat and faint whimpering in the young man’s throat.

  17

  “This is as far as I can take you,” the Brocken Dragon announces as he lands ten miles away from Haven. Standing on the trees, the airy guardian stretches his tail to the ground so his passengers can climb down safely. “I smell corruption and death in the land. My apologies, but I do not wish to be struck down. That would leave my home undefended. Good luck and I hope you retrieve my foolish master soon.”

  “Thanks for taking us this far,” Delvin says, putting a hand over Nyx’s mouth. Watching the low flying dragon disappear into the distance, the warrior lets his arm get smacked away. “He was right about being cautious and we were lucky he was willing to help in the first place. We don’t know what Walter has planned since this is where we planned on ending the ritual. It’s his last chance to stop us, so he won’t be holding back. I have a question, Dariana. Is the version of Haven you trapped us in similar to the real one?”