The Summoner and the Seer: Darklight Universe: Book 1
Page 14
Kaholo turned thoughtful as he mulled over this new information.
“Time to go,” Amira said while opening the door. Neither spoke as they walked through the village but Amira hoped the boy was working through whatever poison Maleko had injected. When they reached the gate, a distinctly malicious voice boomed out.
“Take that away, he doesn’t know how to use it.”
Amira didn’t have to guess at who earned Maleko’s ire. She rushed through the gate in time to watch as he tossed a spear at a young boy and leaned into Radcliff’s face. Kaholo matched her pace as they both rushed towards the brewing confrontation. Already the brewing altercation was attracting the attention of the nearby clump of warriors.
“The old man may have made you an honorary warrior,” Maleko spit out through clenched teeth, “but that doesn’t make you one. So don’t interfere and stay out of my way.” He shoved Radcliff back and then sneered. “You wouldn’t want to get into an accident.”
Maleko turned to walk away and Amira started breathing easier when Radcliff spoke out. “If you want to threaten me do it to my face instead of hiding behind insinuation.”
Amira gripped Radcliff’s arm. “What are you doing?” she hissed.
He shrugged her off and whispered, “He’s a bully. I intend to deal with it.” Standing there, arms on his hips and a stony expression on his face, Radcliff waited as his adversary turned slowly back around to face him. A hush fell over the growing crowd.
Maleko glowered at Radcliff. The muscles in his arms tightened on the spear—a clear warning that the least provocation would send it lunging for the wizard’s heart. “What did you say? Are you calling me a coward?” he snarled.
“Yes,” Radcliff barked out in a clipped tone. Just one word called the bully out and demanded action. The wizard looked prepared.
Amira was horrified. She wasn’t sure if she could beat Maleko, this tribe’s most formidable warrior, but she would do what she could to keep Radcliff alive and hope the others didn’t join in.
Maleko raised his spear and his thigh muscles bunched up in preparation to lunge forward when a young girl’s voice called out, “Radcliff!”
Everyone turned and watched as Nalani jumped up to hug Radcliff. As if nothing was wrong, Radcliff caught the girl and returned the hug, a smile in his eyes. “Hello there little one.”
“Nalani!” Maleko barked, followed by a rapid fire assault of words in the Shae tongue. He slammed his spear into the ground and pointed back to the village before rattling off another round of invective spew.
The girl’s face turned mulish, and she replied in Common. “Radcliff is my friend. I’m here to see him off.”
“Enough!” Maleko yelled. “Nalani, go home. You,” he pointed at Radcliff, “will face me in a duel.”
“No,” Ekewaka calmly interjected. “There will be no duels today.” He spread his hands out and rebuked the gawking crowd. “What are you waiting for? Get your gear and head out. We don’t have time to waste.”
The warriors shuffled off to grab their gear. Maleko stood there motionless, an enraged statue waiting to explode.
“You too Maleko,” Ekewaka gently prodded. “See to your team.” When Maleko began yelling in native, Ekewaka chided, “In Common, so our guests can understand.”
Fuming, Maleko spoke slowly, his words dripping with menace. “Not until he unhands my daughter.”
Nalani reluctantly let go when Radcliff set her on the ground. Her small body vibrated with anger and she kept her eyes on Radcliff, refusing to look at her father.
Ekewaka put a calming hand on her shoulder while he spoke to her father. “Go on, I’ll see her back safely.”
Maleko leveled a hateful stare at Radcliff that said this wasn’t over. The steely glint in Radcliff’s eyes promised swift retribution if anything did happen. After a long enough pause to send his silent message, Maleko jerked the spear out of the ground and stomped over to where his warriors waited at a safe distance.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. “Radcliff.” Nalani tugged on his hand to get his attention. “I made something to give you luck.” She revealed an arm band braided with gray and black beads to match the colors painted on the wizard’s chest.
Radcliff knelt so Nalani could tie it around his upper arm. “Thanks Nalani,” he replied with a smile. “I shall wear it with pride.”
The little girl beamed with joy.
“It’s time to head back,” Ekewaka reminded Nalani. She gave Radcliff a final hug before running back to the village. Ekewaka watched until she safely entered the village, then he turned back to face Radcliff. “Maleko has a hot temper, but he wouldn’t do something to jeopardize the mission.”
“We’ll see,” Radcliff replied, sounding doubtful.
Amira agreed with his misgivings. “I will keep the wizard safe,” she promised.
“I can take care of myself,” Radcliff scoffed.
“I’m sure you can, but an extra set of eyes is better.” Amira wanted to add ‘backstabbing snake’ and a few other choice insults to emphasize her complete distrust of Maleko, but not while the village elder was present. Instead she darted her eyes briefly over to the group of warriors heading off. Radcliff seemed to get what she was trying to say without words since he gave her a slight nod of acceptance.
Ekewaka followed Nalani back to the village. The warriors weren’t waiting, probably hoping to leave them behind, so they rushed over to pick up the last two packs. Kaholo popped out of nowhere and handed a spear to Radcliff. He accepted it with such a look of confusion on his face, the boy grinned and teased him. “In case you need to trim your toenails.” All three laughed as they joined the back of the line. Amira’s tension eased at seeing the two friends back together again. Now she only had to worry about Maleko and what they might find.
CHAPTER 12
The Trail to Madness
Radcliff’s headache was steadily worsening as they trudged through the Shae forest. It started shortly after the blink cat incident. At first, he thought it was due to lack of rest. Then he wondered if he had overexerted himself when he used his magic. But he wouldn’t know for sure, thanks to the spell blocking his memory. He ground his teeth in frustrated anger. Without the spell messing things up, he wouldn’t have to guess about how much magic he could use and he’d have an entire arsenal of spells at his disposal, not the paltry few outlined in his journal.
He could feel the edge of depression lingering, waiting to pounce. Yet another problem he had to deal with that had no immediate solution. All he could do was fight it and keep his mind busy.
And while on the topic of things going wrong, there was something about this forest that raised his hackles. At first, he dismissed the anxiety as part of his own issues. But as they continued to press onward, dread clung to him like wet clothing on a cold winter day. It refused to be ignored, so he focused his attention outward.
The Shae grass to the left was an impassable clump of ochre pillars that had an ominous, shadowy look to it. To the right, the grass was sparse enough to let filtered sunlight in. Bushes and the shorter variety of grasses grew in splotches, giving the forest a scraggly, unkempt look. The game trail they followed snaked around the random growths, sometimes even backtracking, before finally heading east again. It looked normal enough to Radcliff, certainly nothing that should trigger these uneasy feelings.
They walked in silence a few more minutes before Radcliff realized just how quiet it was. The warriors moved like ghosts through the forest, making no sounds. Even Amira was very nearly as deft as the warriors, only an occasional misstep revealed her inexperience in this terrain. His own footsteps sounded magnified in the stillness. That’s when it dawned on him—the silence was absolute. There were no birds singing, no insects buzzing, no animals darting away from the group as they passed through, and no murmuring Shae leaves rustling in the canopy. The still was oppressive, like death’s blanket.
The two warriors walking in front of him must be fe
eling it too. Both had their hands tightly clenched around their spears and their muscles were coiled, ready to pounce. Their earlier ebullience was now pensive.
Everyone walked in strained silence for another hour when a low murmur began at the front of the line and drifted quickly towards the back. When the pair in front began frantically whispering to each other, Radcliff asked Kaholo, “What are they saying?”
The boy jumped at the sudden noise and whirled around. Radcliff caught the spear before it could slice his cheek open. Wide eyes filled with fear stared up at him without recognition. Then Kaholo blinked and recovered, turning bright red as he took the spear away from Radcliff’s face. “Sorry,” he mumbled. Radcliff waved it off. Everyone was on edge. He repeated his question and Kaholo darted his eyes around before whispering, “The trees are sick.”
At first, Radcliff didn’t see what they were talking about. The Shae grass looked fine, though here it was a darker shade of yellow. When something crunched underfoot, he glanced down and did a double take. The ground surrounding them was a thick blanket of dead leaves and delicate, broken off branches. Squinting, he looked directly into the sunny blue sky—there was no sign of the tree canopy. It was lying dead at their feet.
The warriors used the tips of their spears to probe the detritus for clues. That’s when Radcliff saw the black discoloration at the base of the Shae stalks. The stain started at ground level and extended about a foot upward.
As they picked their way deeper into the devastation, the Shae grass became more affected. The black had spread to head height and most of the stalks were leaning or fallen over. Their bases were severely bloated and emitted a foul odor. It was not just the Shae grass that was affected. The black stain had utterly consumed all of the low lying vegetation and completely covered the ground.
Radcliff didn’t think things could get worse until they crested a hill and saw flattened, black pustules of decaying matter coating every inch of landscape as far as the horizon, forming an immense circular graveyard. The fetid stench reached them even at this distance despite the lack of a breeze. Though the sun burned fiercely down upon the open area, it seemed repelled by the writhing darkness coating the ground.
A spike of pure evil slammed into Radcliff’s mind. He staggered back and closed his eyes until the worst of the pain receded.
Amira touched his arm briefly. “Are you ok?”
No. “I’m fine,” Radcliff replied stiffly. It felt like something was cracking his skull open from the inside but he refused to acknowledge it. Shoving the remaining pain aside, he concentrated on something that’d caught his attention earlier. “There, that’s the source.” He pointed to a darker than midnight sphere gyrating at the very center.
“The source of what?”
Radcliff shrugged. “I don’t know, but we’ll have to go down there to find out.”
Amira shivered and hugged her chest. Radcliff agreed with the sentiment. Something was very, very wrong and screamed of magic beyond his understanding. But what choice did they have? He stepped through the milling warriors, careful to look away from their horror stricken faces. He could only imagine how it felt seeing the devastation of something you relied upon for survival.
Maleko was already embroiled in a heated discussion with Makani, the scout of this expedition and Kaholo’s father. Radcliff didn’t have the time or patience to wait.
“We need to get a closer look,” he broke in at a lull.
“We are returning. It is too dangerous to remain here,” Makani replied.
Maleko glowered at Radcliff before weighing in with his opinion, for once using Common. “I hate to agree with anything this”—he wrinkled his nose in disgust as he struggled to speak civilly—“man says, but we need to know more about what we are facing.”
Makani glared at Maleko, but seemed to be thinking about it. Then his eyes lit on his son. “Kaholo, you will remain here.”
Kaholo crossed his arms and scowled. “What? No! I’m—”
“You’re staying here. At the first sign of trouble, head back to the village.”
“No!”
“That’s an order, Son.” Then his tone softened. “I need someone I trust to stay back in case we need to send out a warning. Please Son, just do as I ask.”
Kaholo signed and looked ready to argue when Radcliff told him, “It’s probably a wise idea. We don’t know what’s down there.”
“If you’re sure?” Kaholo looked at Radcliff, doubt and fear warring with the desire to be included.
Radcliff nodded and Kaholo sighed. “Ok, I guess.”
“Remember Son, at the first sign of trouble—”
“I’ll go.” Kaholo rolled his eyes when his father ruffled his hair and clapped him in a man hug. “Be careful, Papa,” he whispered when his father finally released him and stood back.
“I will,” he promised. Turning to the warrior leader, Makani insisted that he scout first, before descending slowly into the miasma.
Maleko, completely ignoring Radcliff, turned to the others and barked orders, once again speaking in native.
Radcliff didn’t mind, he was busy studying the strange orb. It could be just his imagination, but the area surrounding it looked even darker and definitely more threatening. Almost like it knew they were coming. He shook off the strange feeling, chalking it up to nerves.
Maleko took the lead and Radcliff waited until the single file line of somber warriors walked past before waving for Amira to go ahead so he could bring up the rear. If he thought the footing was bad before, it was child’s play compared to what they faced now. They navigated around bloated bodies swollen with gasses, the skin writhing with things crawling around underneath. Radcliff was reminded of the tentacle from the blink cat and kept a careful eye on the bodies they walked past. The smell was indescribable and caused Radcliff’s eyes to water. He kept one hand over his nose and tried not to gag.
One of the men up front screamed in agony. Radcliff heard shouts, scuffling, and then dead silence. After a tense moment, chaos erupted. Everyone began speaking at once and warriors began pushing and shoving to the front. Maleko yelled and everyone froze before reluctantly shifting back in line.
Radcliff worked his way to the front and spotted a distinctly warrior-shaped body already darkening and bloating. Another warrior was kneeling beside the corpse, muttering under his breath. “What happened?”
“That was his brother.” Maleko pointed at the corpse. “Something bit him and he simply dropped.” Then he whirled on Radcliff. “This is your doing!”
“Nonsense,” Amira cut in smoothly before Radcliff could formulate a response. “He was at the back with me the whole time.”
Radcliff nodded his thanks as she stepped up beside him. He felt terrible about the man’s death but his uneasiness was worsening the longer they delayed. “I’m sorry he died. But he may not be the last if we can’t figure out what’s going on.”
The grieving brother shot a nasty look at Radcliff before speaking rapid fire native to Maleko. Then he stood and deliberately sliced his palm on his spear tip. Dipping two fingers in the pooling blood, he drew streaks of blood from forehead to cheek across both of his eyes.
“What is he doing?” Amira asked.
Maleko replied, “He wears the blood of his blood. Now he will carry the flesh of his flesh.”
“No! It could be infected,” Radcliff cried out in alarm. Before he could continue, Amira placed her hand on his arm. When he looked at her, she gave him a look that said to trust her. Grumbling, he relented.
Amira stepped forward and asked, “Can’t he collect the remains once we’ve neutralized the threat?”
Maleko addressed the other man, and they exchanged a few heated words. Finally, the brother fell silent and stepped into formation. “He’ll stay with us and collect the body when we leave.” Barking a final order, Maleko got the group moving again. Radcliff and Amira stepped back to let the line of warriors pass before taking up the rear.
It took another twenty minutes of careful navigation to reach the source. By some common feeling of self-preservation, the entire group halted a good twenty feet back. Radcliff broke formation and picked his way over to Maleko. The man didn’t acknowledge him, he kept his eyes on the strange orb, his spear ready to stab it.
Radcliff was kind of surprised when Amira stepped beside him. They both examined the orb which hovered at chest height and looked as if it was of the void itself. It was so dark it dimmed the surrounding light.
YOU ARE MINE! A powerful voice dripping with gleeful malice slammed into his mind, though he got the impression the message wasn’t meant for him. Then everything happened at once.
A large tentacle shot out.
Amira brought her staff up to block it.
Something within Radcliff’s mind ruptured and a dark force rushed out. It thrust his arm forward and used his mouth to chant words he didn’t comprehend, though at a subconscious level, they felt familiar.
The tentacle froze an inch away from Amira’s face. The rest of its body had curved to avoid the staff and would have struck her had it not been stopped.
She stumbled back, her eyes wide and panicky. “It was real!”
The tentacle vibrated as it struggled against the force holding it in place. Radcliff brought up his other hand and shot a stream of white hot flame at it. The thing shrieked in agony and struggled, but Radcliff’s grip held firm. Spears from the surrounding warriors struck it, causing further damage, until finally the tip was torn apart. The remaining stump was a smoldering, bubbling mess, but a small bud began to form at its center. Radcliff sent another wave of fire which burned what remained to ash.
The sphere pulsated with venomous anger as it darkened and grew larger.
Radcliff’s mouth began speaking even uglier words, directing them at the sphere. Portal, something whispered in his mind. It required all his concentration to speak the strange words, not strange just old. With each archaic phrase, the sphere grew smaller. A high pitched scream ripped across the barren landscape before the portal vanished with a loud pop.