by Bill Ricardi
I soon discovered why. They were snapping at each other, something completely uncharacteristic for the couple.
“Hold still damn it, do you want to screw this up?”
“If you’re that incompetent, you can always hack it off with your axe and try again.”
It was Ames, covered in webbing, dirt, and cyclops blood, who straightened them out. The were-cat said, “Both of you, get your heads on right. Whatever personal issues you may have can wait until we’re out of danger.”
Toby grit his teeth, then bent his will to the task. As the paladin’s hands glowed, Tara’s twisted arm crackled and straightened. The cleric’s squinted, teary eyes widening at the sensation. As soon as the healing took hold, Tara wiped her eyes. She gripped Toby’s forearm and started to murmur her more powerful healing prayer. The bigger minotaur’s burns faded, and he gasped with relief.
It was Toby who responded to Ames’ concerns. “I’m sorry everyone. It’s this damn noise, just buzzing at the base of my skull. It’s driving me mad!” The minotaur’s volume was far too loud, as in if he was screaming over some kind of deafening background noise.
And Tara was doing the exact same thing. “It’s affecting me as well. We should finish here as quickly as possible!”
The rest of us had no idea what they were talking about.
It took Benno walking over and touching Tara’s hand to figure out what was happening. When she briefly relayed the sound to my son’s mind through their psychic link, the younger orc staggered back as if he had been struck in the forehead.
Benno said, “Wow. They’re hearing and feeling this… thing. A resonance. It’s through their connection to the earth. And it’s painful. Maybe we should go.”
But Toby overruled that suggestion, saying, “Let’s find the cause if we can, and eliminate it. If it becomes too much, we’ll let you know.”
There was only one other exit to the chamber. It was smaller and tighter than the way in. The largest of the fire cyclopes must have barely been able to squeeze through. Toby led the way, followed by Ames. The rest of us waited to be waived in. When the signal came, it was almost hesitant.
After entering the next chamber, I understood why my mate wasn’t giving us an enthusiastic go-ahead. The scene in front of us was brutal, bizzare.
Clearly this was some kind of quickly constructed temple and treasure room. Crudely scrawled depictions of a nebulous being trapped inside of a circle adorned every wall. One of the more defined drawings gave me the impression of a blocky looking chick within a strangely round egg. Coins, packs, and even a few weapons were scattered around the room without any apparent rhyme or reason. But it wasn’t the inanimate objects that drew our attention just then.
A blistered crimson cyclops sat cross-legged on a makeshift altar in the center of the small chamber. There was nothing but glowing red rubble on the far side of the room, this creature having sealed the deeper passages upon hearing telltale signs of the imminent demise of his companions.
I say ‘hearing’ because the condition of this creature made seeing the encounter impossible. The large central eye of the cyclops was gone, replaced by an otherwise unremarkable looking boulder. The replacement looked intentional, almost surgical. Other presumably self inflicted wounds covered the giant’s body, focused mainly on his chest, neck, and scalp. The creature was already talking, but it was difficult to say if we were its intended audience, or if the cyclops had enough sanity left to consider its audience at all.
The fire cyclops rocked back and forth on their rump and thighs as it spoke, “Embrace the Hum. No pain with Hum. No worry with Hum. It take bad things out, then put in rock. It wash bad thought out, then put in plan. Hum will cleanse whole world.”
Tears streamed down Toby’s cheeks, likely from fighting against ‘the Hum’ himself. The minotaur asked, “Why did you come here? Kill those people? Harvest all of those skulls?”
The crazed giant turned its massive head towards Toby’s voice. The cyclops said, “Their skulls no echo. They no hear sacred Hum. Took skulls from them, try make them hear. And now they do. Now everyone do. The Hum shakes us all. The Hum takes us all. Praise the Hum.”
Tara hissed through gritted teeth, “It’s getting worse.”
“Not worse. Better. More. Soon you worship Hum in self forever. It tell you what next. It just tell me what next. All praise.”
We readied weapons and spells as the insane creature got to their feet on the large flat stone. The cyclops put its arms out wide, as if delivering a benediction. Then it simply allowed itself to fall backwards from the ‘altar’. The sheer weight of the boulder in its eye socket shattered the giant’s skull upon impact with the cave floor.
The creature’s insane action shook me to the core. The expressions on the faces of my friends and family told me that they were similarly horrified. The red glow within the walls flared as our silence dominated the cavern. Then there was a faint tremor. A chill swept through me, despite the intense heat all around me.
It was Ames who took charge, snapping us out of our horror. “Two minutes. Grab everything you can, we need evidence and then we need to get the hells out of here.”
I grabbed one of the intact packs and swept chains, rings, and loose coins into it. Benno did the same, and in the process found a journal and signet ring that could possibly explain some things. Tara and Toby collected weapons that might be used to identify some of the dead. Ames went through the ‘holy relics’ which were mostly macabre trophies. The feline took the only salvageable thing that might serve as a clue: An old cavalry sabre that seemed to have been cared for lovingly.
The next tremor was far stronger than the last. Both minotaurs cried out, as in if the shaking was physically painful to them. Tara said, “It’s deafening!” She was once again shouting over the non-existent sound.
I made the call, “That’s it, out. Everyone out!”
The minotaurs didn’t need to be told twice. They charged out into the larger chamber without looking back. We quickly followed in their footsteps, doing our best to stay within the radius of the Light spells that they carried. The next tremor caused a small rockfall even before we cleared the corpse-strewn room, which still smelled like slow-cooked giant.
Once again I was charging up these twisty red tunnels, and I wasn’t enjoying it any more the second time around. I took up the rear, since I already knew the way and wanted to make sure that my family was safe. The walls seemed to be pulsing like the arteries of a titanic stone entity. I felt my flesh starting to scald, but I knew that it was only three more sharp turns until we were at those ridiculous stairs. So I grit my teeth and ran.
We were just coming up to the point where I ‘ambushed’ the crippled cyclops when the wall to our right simply gave out. In my mind, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Ames was beyond the fall, and I was behind it with plenty of room to get around to my left. But that left Benno right in the middle. I watched as a sea of hot stone engulfed my son.
A father’s mind and body work incredibly quickly when his child is in danger. As I charged towards the rockfall, I was already calling for the one person who could help:
“TOBY!”
I grabbed fist sized stones and started hurling them away, ignoring the way that they burned my hands. Metal crawling with living runes flashed just over my shoulder, and the Axe of McGrondle obliterated the largest stone. I was briefly worried that Toby may have just hacked off my son’s arm, but I continued my frantic digging. Another well placed blow caused the pile of stones to shift, uncovering my son’s unconscious, scalded face and one shoulder.
That was all Toby needed. He threw me the axe and grabbed my son’s torso, not bothering to be delicate given the situation. Benno’s broken body found itself rested on the minotaur’s broad shoulders. Then Toby charged forwards like a maniac, mounting those giant stairs incredibly quickly for a man his size. Tara was waiting for me, massive hand already extended. She grabbed the shaft of the Axe of McGron
dle and used it as a lever. I was propelled, practically thrown up the first few steps. Ames was waiting to pull me up the last one, and Tara scrambled past to reach her husband and my fallen son.
I lay on the ground, the skin of my hands cooked and peeling, my hair smoking. But I only had eyes for the scene unfolding three paces away.
Toby ignored his own burnt arms and smoking fur, instead touching Benno’s twisted arm and murmuring a prayer to Aro-Remset. The god of fair battle answered his servant, pushing the bone of the open fracture back under skin and muscle and stemming some of the bleeding. Then the glory of Melflavin was invoked, Tara touching my son’s chest where it had gone slightly concave due to the broken ribs. His torso took on a more normal shape, but I strained to see if my son’s chest was moving at all. Finally Tara invoked the last of her healing on the young orc’s legs, stemming the bleeding from a foot that was crushed nearly flat.
I didn’t even notice that Ames has been quickly wrapping my bleeding hands in clean bandages. They were still clenched tightly around the shaft of the Axe of McGrondle, which was now bound to me with long strips of cotton. In the back of my mind I knew that they were leathery, inflexible, useless for spellcasting. But all I could do was squint with dust and smoke stained eyes to see if my boy’s chest was moving.
“Ow.”
It was weak, almost so faint that I thought I had imagined it. But Benno followed up his quaint declaration with a miserable little moan. I heard Ames let out a held breath, and saw Tara and Toby collapse in relieved exhaustion.
My were-cat called over, “The Hum?”
Tara answered, “Gone, as soon as we climbed the stairs.”
The feline rose with a growl. “Still. We don’t know if the instability is restricted to those infernal caves. Let’s inform the guards, they can take whatever action they feel is required. And we can get Benno to your temple.”
Tara added, “And you boys are both in miserable shape.”
Toby snorted, clearly about to deny the severity of his injuries. But when the big minotaur looked at me, he just blinked and stared for a moment. Then the paladin bellowed with laughter upon seeing his axe lashed to my hands with bandages.
Ames said to Tara, dryly, “I think yours is broken.”
Tara sighed and watched her wounded husband roll around in mirth. “There’s a training exercise for young warriors that involves… nevermind. Let’s get them to the temple.”
I’m not certain that the guards would have let me past without Toby and Tara present. An angry, singed orc with a battleaxe strapped to his hands was not exactly the standard fare, even in Ice House. Properly escorted, the five of us limped into the Temple of the Order of the Snow.
I recalled the first time that Toby told me about this religious collective. He had said that the Order of the Snow was a unified temple combining the clerics, the paladins, and the militant faithful of several different gods. But what he didn’t mention is that it was less of a temple and more of an enclosed courtyard. There was plenty of room for prayers, training, teaching, whatever a group of paladins and priests might need to tend to their flocks and prepare future generations of the clergy.
This wasn’t my first time within these walls, but something always surprised me. Today, that surprise was the person tending to the open infirmary. Her name was Tajuff, and she was a stern looking half orc matron. The gray haired, light green skinned cleric wore her holy symbol of Kenvunk proudly.
She looked us over, and then said, “Boy in dis bed. Idiot with axe in next bed. Rest of you, sit on floor.”
The rapidity with which Toby obeyed the cleric’s orders made me think that he knew her well, and chose not to mess with the matron. Once Benno was deposited and I had been made comfortable, Toby and Tara sat heavily in the aisle between the cots. Ames preferred to stand and pace.
As Tajuff was the dedicated medic, she was well prepared. The half orc immediately treated Benno with a healing prayer that was more powerful than anything we had access to. The sound of my boy’s happy sigh nearly caused me to weep with relief.
Suddenly Tajuff’s face was directly in mine. She asked, in Orcish, “Why you sitting up?”
For some reason I felt guilty, even though there was a good explanation. I replied in my native tongue, “I have my backpack on and another strapped to that, but can’t get them off until these bandages are cut away.”
The matron snorted. Nevertheless, she took my wrists lightly in her hands and murmured another healing prayer. A sudden warmth and numbness washed through my hands. I felts the bandages unstick from my flesh as cracked skin became whole and muscles tormented by fire were soothed and repaired.
Tajuff gestured to Ames, the closest person with a pointy thing. “You, cut him loose, yes?” she said in Common, more of a command than a request.
My mate nodded. Without thinking, Ames drew the sabre that we rescued from the ‘relic’ pile in the cyclopes’ cave. As soon as the slightly curved blade cleared its sheath, it burst into flames. This startled Ames just as much as it did the rest of us.
Tajuff clarified, dryly, “Maybe not wit’ dat.”
As the wide eyed were-cat sheathed the firebrand sabre, our cleric continued making the rounds. Ames used my trusty dagger to cut me free of the Axe of McGrondle. Each of the wounded received another minor healing spell to promote the rejuvenation of our burned skin. Tara and Ames, protected by the minotaur’s Elemental Resistance prayer, escaped with only a bit of a tan. Tara did accept a little healing for her battered and bruised arms.
While the half orc went over to assess the long term injuries of Benno, the rest of us sorted through everything that we grabbed prior to our retreat, so as to avoid any other unexpected surprises. Anything that had a name or a signet on it was set aside, to provide authorities and the Guild with a list of victims that fell to the crazed giants. A fair portion of the loose currency was earmarked as a donation to the Order of the Snow for their aid and healing.
The journal and matching signet ring, sadly, had no real name attached to them. Simply the initials ‘X.Q.Z.’, which nobody recognised. There was no mention of snow in the journal at all, mainly nameless woodlands were referenced. However, there was one hint. The last entry was about a mysterious forest fire that had broken out, which apparently raged for days. The date was last year. With some research, we would be able to figure out just how far this journal had come, and possibly a reason why the fire cyclopes set X.Q.Z.’s forest ablaze.
Tajuff stomped over as we were finishing our sorting. She said, “Boy sleep now. His arm broke. Many toes broke. Need more healing later. Probably two week rest. Keep him away from axe and fire sword.”
I said, “Don’t worry, I plan to.”
The half orc nodded curtly, and then headed off to find someone to relieve her, having channeled all of the divine power that she could for the evening.
Ames asked, quietly, “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that’s Benno’s last adventure. He’s seen how stupidly dangerous it all is. He has his grand tales to tell his friends. Enough is enough.”
Tara and Toby rose quickly. The big paladin said, “Why don’t the two of us go make these donations and our tithes.”
Tara didn’t wait for us to reply, “Okay, we’ll just go do that then.”
And they were gone before the fighting could start.
Ames politely waited until our friends were out of earshot before saying, “He’s a grown man, love. It’s not our decision.”
I practically snarled, “You’re damned right it’s our decision. Do you think Max will risk losing our services? Does the Guild really want to put one of the few psychics on Panos in the line of fire? If we insist, they’ll take that as enough of an excuse.”
The were-cat remained calm. “Sorch, if he wants to walk that road, he can always go it alone. Without Guild support. Without University support. Just out there on his own. Is that what you want?”
I balled up my freshly healed
fingers into fists, relishing in the ache. Letting the pain take some of the damned rationality away. “If I forbid him, do you really think he’ll go against my wishes? He never has in the past.”
Ames begged, “Don’t put him in that position hon. He has to make his own life decisions.”
I growled, “I want him safe! Why in the hells do we do this if not to make a better future for him? So that he doesn’t have to wade through the same muck as we do? So that he can deal with the stuff and things that really matter.”
My mate suggested, softly, “Like the safety of Panos?”
My arm swiped through the air, as in if banishing that idea. I said, “Someone else can deal with the safety of Panos. We’ve done our part. Haven’t we given enough?”
Ames’ tone was firm, “I want you to sleep on this before you have any conversation with him. I’m not going to stop you. But I’m not going to help you either.”
I clenched my jaw, silent for a while. The next words that came out didn’t really sound like me. Whoever said them was crying. “I just want him to be safe.”
The white furred feline embraced me, right in the middle of the infirmary floor. “I know. I know.”
Toby and Tara returned a couple of minutes later. The big paladin said, “Got us some space for the night in the old squire’s tower. They’re still rebuilding the top floors, but we can take the beds on the second floor. Minotaur sized, of course.”
Ames asked Toby, “What about the sword? Something as distinctive as a firebrand weapon would surely have been reported missing.”
The minotaur shrugged and replied, “We’re going to send all of the identifying materials to the Inspector General. We’ll include a description of the sabre. If anyone has made a claim on it, he’ll get back to us. But until then, you’re the caretaker.”
After stowing our own gear, we packed away all of the personal effects into one of the spare backpacks that we had grabbed. Toby made one of his apprentices run the contents down to the Inspector General’s office for analysis. Then Tara picked up the snoozing Benno, and we made our way to the courtyard’s Northwest tower.