by David Adams
She reared back as if to strike the nearest, but something stayed her hand. These spiders could not have so quickly devoured her companions, and none had made a sudden move in her direction. One came toward her now, but slowly. She slid aside, almost bumping into one she had apparently missed before, just to the right and slightly behind her. It jumped away but then held its ground a few paces away.
Unhappy with her position, surrounded as she was, she chanced a few quick steps and worked her way behind the jumping spider, which ignored her completely. As she turned back to view the lot of them, she thought she saw a spider form near the entrance, as if it had been created out of thin air.
She shook her head and chased the thought away, keeping her spear leveled at the nearest eight-legged beast.
* * *
Corson only had an instant to react. A large chunk of rock, almost as large as him, came hurtling toward him as he stepped through the false stone door. He leapt to his right and watched the slab of rock slam into the hidden entrance. It bounced back and fell into the pit whose edge began little more than a foot inside the cave.
He caught his breath and studied his surroundings. The cave was much as Tala had described it, but its most prominent feature must have been hidden from her. A stone precipice ran along the edge of the chamber, no more than eighteen inches wide and narrower in sections. Beyond this narrow walkway the rock dropped off in a sheer face that offered no place for foot or hand to find purchase. Far below a pool of molten lava waited to devour any who slipped from the rocky ledge. Rising from the center of the pool was a single stalagmite, which rose just above the height of the ledge, and on it was a piece of metal with a familiar yellow-green glow. The stalagmite was well-centered—nowhere on the ledge would he be within ten feet of it.
He studied the fiery pool, seeing no sign of what must have fallen there before the flying rock—his friends. Shaken with grief, he considered what he might do, and whether his quest was doomed to fail even if he could possess the shard placed before him.
* * *
Tala tried to dispel the magic she knew the cave was infused with, but the spells were far too powerful for her meager skills. With a sigh she gave up the attempt, and then searched for a few loose pebbles or rocks, which the smooth cave floor refused to yield. She checked her pockets for something expendable, settling for one of the coins she had. She sent it skidding across the cave floor, and wasn’t surprised when it appeared to melt into the stone and vanish some ten feet short of the pedestal upon which the shard sat.
She slid forward carefully, following as best she could the path the coin had taken, always keeping her weight on her back foot. Finally the toe of her boot found a spot where resistance disappeared. She knelt, then probed ahead with her hands, tracing the edge of where the cave floor—the real one—fell away. She moved to the right, unable to see past the illusion that hid the gap in the floor, hoping her fingers might find a place where a path to the shard might still be present.
* * *
Lucien had kept his feet planted firmly as he studied the suspended piece of the Soul Sphere, unable to risk moving due to the utter darkness of the cave. If need be he would move forward on hands and knees, wary of traps, but until he had a course of action, he need not do so.
A warrior at heart, he despised magic, and he feared any attempt he might make would be rebuffed somehow. He considered a rope, a shot from a bow, a makeshift ladder…and wished the others were here to aid him.
Something bumped him in the dark, not hard enough to disturb his balance, but whatever it was large enough to hit both his thigh and shoulder. He whirled his blade before him defensively and felt a slight tug as it grazed something in the blackness before him.
* * *
Despite the absence of his companions, Rowan felt almost no threat from the columns of flame. They moved but little, and although two had lurched in his general direction, both had moved in short, quick motions that stopped as suddenly as they started. The fact that the pillars were the same in number as his friends was not lost on him, and he wondered if perhaps they had been consumed or had taken these new forms, or if maybe they were somewhere, even here, seeing him in the same way.
The flames lit the cave well, and there was clearly no sign of the missing shard, although he knew it could be hidden as easily as the entrance to the cave had been.
He started to edge cautiously around the room, always keeping an eye on the flames. He saw two of them come into contact, one jumping back from the other, which remained perfectly stationary.
* * *
Demetrius began to creep down the narrow tunnel, trying to avoid any sudden motion. The walls were close and could be hiding anything, although his all-too-human eyes could make out nothing but smooth rock.
He hit something directly in front of him, bouncing back from it with a small grunt. He could see nothing there but the tunnel ahead, but he had clearly felt something large and unmoving blocking his path.
There was a sharp pain in his right bicep, and he looked down to see blood welling up from a thin slice that had been carved there. The wound was not bad, but it was a stern warning.
He held his sword before him, unsure how he could fight an enemy he could not see.
* * *
The confusion in Alexis’ mind was deepening. There was no sign of the shard Tala had said was in this hidden cave, no sign of those who had preceded her inside, nor of Corson, who was to follow. There were only the spiders, which moved in slow, strange patterns, oblivious to her and even to their own surroundings. She even saw two of them bump into each other as if blind.
She had no answer for what had become of her fellow travelers, but it came to her that the Soul Sphere pieces they had retrieved were both inside the beasts that guarded them—the demon she had helped slay and the swamp creature Corson had told her of as they rode side-by-side.
She couldn’t be sure which spider was the true guardian, but she did not doubt that once she struck one, the others would move to its defense. She would slay them all or they would slay her.
She lifted her spear above her head, ready to make a killing thrust.
* * *
Corson tried to settle himself, to move his mind from grief to how he might retrieve the shard of the Sphere. As a group it might be simple. Maybe they could hold a rope across and strong arms could support someone moving hand-over-hand across the chasm. Perhaps Tala might have a spell of some sort. He and Demetrius…
He had known and been friends with Demetrius for almost his whole life. They had been through so much, shared hopes and dreams, fought side by side. Even when this, their final quest, had seemed to Corson a path to ruin, there had been no doubt in his mind that if Demetrius was going to face these perils, he would face them as well, standing at his friend’s side.
And now Demetrius had stumbled into a lake of fire and been consumed instantly. After all they had done and seen, it seemed such a stupid way to die, a pathetic end to a life well-lived.
The only small saving grace would be if he could finish the task they had set out to do. Doubt assailed him immediately, but he quieted it, at least for a time. Nothing would bring Demetrius back, but if Solek was destroyed too…
Corson began to consider what supplies he had that might be of use.
* * *
Tala had given up her faint hope of finding some sort of bridge to where the table with the shard stood. She took her bow and aimed with a steady hand, targeting the nearest leg of the wooden table, then let fly.
She was disappointed but not surprised to see the arrow pass through the leg and slap harmlessly against the far wall.
“Wait a minute,” she breathed as she pulled another arrow from her quiver.
* * *
Lucien stilled his breathing, remaining totally motionless. Whatever, or whoever, had bumped into him was still near—he could sense a closeness in the air around him.
* * *
Rowan moved toward the rear
of the cave, keeping his distance from the blazing columns, hoping he might find another hidden chamber. He brushed his fingers upon the wall as he circled the room.
* * *
Demetrius backed up a couple of steps, lowered his sword so it pointed directly in front of him, then prepared to charge. Perhaps the blade would have some effect on the invisible barrier before him.
* * *
Alexis took aim at first one spider, which skittered away along the wall and toward the rear of the chamber, then at another, which moved off in another direction. Apparently they were aware of her presence after all, and of the deadly nature of the spear she wielded.
* * *
Corson knew he needed something other than what he had on his person to reach the prize. He started back toward the cave entrance, thinking to retrieve some rope and see what else might be in the horses’ packs.
* * *
Tala took aim again, this time directly at the piece of the Soul Sphere. In that instant, something sprang from the hidden pit, dark and menacing, but neither her gaze nor her hands wavered. The arrow flew true, passing just beyond the shard and the glass dome that covered it, stopping in mid-air, the tip of the arrow now invisible.
* * *
Like a curtain falling, the magic flowed from the room. Demetrius, Lucien, and Alexis stopped abruptly, each seeing they were ready to strike one of their companions. Rowan and Corson held their positions. Tala stared straight ahead, and could now see the arrow had buried itself in the chest of a small, man-shaped creature, hairless and ghastly white, with large, round eyes that stared at nothing. In one clawed hand it held the shard. It fell to its knees, and then collapsed onto the stone pedestal upon which it stood, the shard dropping out of the dead hand with a distinct “click” of crystal on stone.
The actual make-up of the cave was plainly visible now, fading sunlight drifting in through the opening. For twenty feet the floor was solid stone, but then a pit that fell away into bottomless depths yawned open to greet the unwary, and this chasm stretched from one side of the cave to the other. The stone pedestal rose up from the center of the pit, well out of ordinary reach.
Rowan realized he had only been a few short steps away from tumbling into oblivion, and Demetrius saw that if he had not bumped into an invisible Lucien, he likely would have met his end. Even Tala drew back from the lip, so empty a feeling did she have as she gazed downward into nothing.
With the spells gone it was a simple matter for Tala to levitate the shard across the pit and into her hand. They left the wretched place with few words, each understanding how close they had been to disaster. They mounted up and rode off without discussion, wanting to put several miles—and hours—between themselves and the cave before they tried to rest.
* * *
The next morning as they ate, they shared with each other what they had seen, and pieced together what had happened.
Alexis shivered at the thought of how close she had come to spearing any or all of them. “What powers are we facing,” she asked, “that can wield such magic?”
“That creature,” answered Tala, “relied on a mastery of illusion, rather than brute strength. Whether its power came from the Dark One or elsewhere, I cannot say.”
“What chance do we have against the one who possesses Solek,” Demetrius wanted to know, “if even his minions have such abilities?”
“All the guardians who serve him that we have encountered are now dead at our hand,” said Rowan. “We must take hope from that.”
“I, for one, am just happy to see you all alive,” said Corson. “I was certain you had all been killed.”
“I nearly kill Demetrius,” Lucien said, gesturing at the small cut on Demetrius’ arm while wearing an angry scowl.
Demetrius looked at the injury and shrugged it off. “We’re incredibly lucky this scratch was the worst that happened.” He tried to smile, but he couldn’t wipe the serious look from his face. “We must remain vigilant. If we cannot trust what we see…”
“Only one supremely skilled, with a lifetime of learning, can hope to create such illusions,” said Tala. “The chances of us seeing the like again are slim. But you are right. We must be on guard.”
“Did anyone see anything on watch last night?” Demetrius asked.
They all replied that they had not.
“But,” said Rowan, “the Mist could watch from a distance. It is best to assume it still lurks nearby.”
“I agree,” said Demetrius, “and I am wondering about the Sphere pieces.”
“How so?” asked Tala.
“We have kept the shards separate to try to avoid drawing the Dark One’s attention. I believe we have now drawn his eye, as we all knew we would eventually. It seems then, we should either combine the pieces, or divide up and go in different directions with them.”
“I do not like the idea of splitting up,” said Rowan. The others quickly agreed.
“Nor do I,” said Demetrius, “and as only Tala can direct us to the next piece, the rest of us would be acting only as decoys, unless we find other mages.”
“Not likely to happen,” said Corson.
“So since we will remain together, and since we think our progress is being monitored, and our enemy knows our destinations, we lose little from combining the pieces. What is gained…” Demetrius weighed what he wanted to say, trying to think it through logically.
“Go on,” said Rowan.
“The Sphere was broken when the Dark One escaped. But is it not true that no weapon or magic in this mortal plane can break the Sphere pieces further, or separate them once they are combined?”
“Legend says this,” answered Tala. “It was the greed and malice of men, along with the Dark One’s undying hatred of all that is good and pure, that allowed the Sphere to be shattered. But if he could have ground it to dust, he would have.”
“Then if we ultimately fail, it would be best if everything we have collected is combined, for the sake of those that might come after on the same quest. I know I would feel better right now if there had only been five pieces. We’d be done.”
Tala thought it over. “There is the risk that Solek would have all of the Sphere if we fail.”
“That’s probable regardless of whether we combine the shards or not—if we fail. Maybe Alexis should keep the piece she has. It was hidden and perhaps it can remain so.”
They settled on this course of action, and Tala assembled the pieces, save the one Alexis held. As each was put into place, it fused itself with a brilliant flash of yellow light. Once she was done, Tala held up the finished product for all to see. It was still well short of being even half of a complete sphere. Casting the finding spell, she sought where they should go next.
“There are two pieces, well apart from one another, in the Great Northern Forest.” She looked at Alexis. “Your land.”
Alexis shook her head. “Within the borders of Lorgras, but not claimed by my people. We do not enter the forest. It is a foul and evil place. Those that have ventured there are seen no more.”
“Sounds lovely,” said Corson.
“There are places beyond number I would rather go than the Great Northern Forest, but if that is where the pieces of the Sphere lie, that is where we must go. The Dark One’s servants chose well when they picked that grim wood.” As if to show her determination, she steeled herself, rose to her feet, and mounted her horse. “Let’s get on with it.”
The others followed her lead and started off to the west. They crossed the Wandering River at a ford where the swift current was broken by rocks and small boulders, then rode in the shadow of the Trawnor Mountains. They moved in silence, each contemplating what they had accomplished and what might lie before them, each shivering against the chill in the air, which was sharpened by their clothes, still wet from the river crossing. The Trawnor’s foothills were less wooded than those of the Aetos, and although this offered less shelter, it allowed faster travel.
Early in the afterno
on, while the sun above them strained to warm the world, there was a sound from the hills to their right. A few rocks tumbled down the face of the mountain, indicating motion above. They slowed and looked up to see a large boulder being rolled aside to reveal an opening into the mountain. From this orifice began to issue a steady stream of dwarves, clad in mail and holding their war axes. They made directly for the riders below.
“Should we hold here?” Rowan asked. “We do have the letter from King Meldros, and we—”
“Ride!” Demetrius commanded.
They urged the horses to full speed and charged forward, constrained by the river on their left and the mountains to their right. Down those mountains came an avalanche of dwarves, an army that had hidden in deep caves and whose numbers were beyond counting. A closer inspection of the dwarves revealed the places from which they issued were tombs, and that they themselves had passed from life long ago. The dead dwarves raced to catch their fleeing targets, ignoring the treachery of the mountain they descended, several falling to be smashed on rocks below, others slipping and sliding but no worse for the tumble. Many who fell rose again, in ways that the living could not.
The Lorgrasian horses easily outran any dwarves that tried to follow, but there were others coming from caves forward of their current position that rushed to cut off their flight. The horses saw or sensed what approached, and they drove themselves harder than any riders’ spur or whip could.
Finally the cave tombs came to an end, several hundred yards ahead. That spot became a finish line of sorts—if they could pass it before the dwarves could descend upon them, they would be safe, at least for a time.
The riders urged the horses on, some with soft words, others with a gentle prodding of boot to flanks. Foam flew from the mouths of their mounts, but the horses found one last reserve of energy to try to bear their riders to safety.
The dwarves they raced with had reached the grass that painted the mountain’s foothills. They ran straight across the fields, trying to cut off the riders’ escape.