The only reasonable thing to do was follow the hidden hallway until a different way presented itself. It was difficult to determine how long they walked the dismal corridor. Because of the darkness, they were forced to take it slow. Spider webs clung to Ruben’s hands and face, and the passageway seemed to grow colder with every step.
Invisible obstacles caused them to trip and stumble, and only Arthur’s quick reflexes saved Ruben from taking a nasty tumble down an unexpected stairway.
After a time, their eyes adjusted somewhat, not that there was much to see. The tunnel was narrow and completely comprised of stone. There were no forks or divergences whatsoever. Aside from the single flight of stairs, which spiraled down for a considerable expanse, the passageway followed a strictly straight route.
Finally, they reached what appeared to be a dead end. Ruben squinted at the barrier, searching for the mechanism that would reveal a new path. There had to be one. Toemis couldn’t have vanished into thin air.
“Come on,” he mumbled. “Where in the…wait a minute…I think…”
His fingers found a lever identical to the one he had felt behind the tapestry, and Ruben pulled it upward. He couldn’t stifle a triumphant laugh as the wall caved in a fraction of an inch. Looks like I’m getting the hang of this adventuring thing after all, he thought.
A wintry breeze wafted into tunnel, giving him a vicious case of gooseflesh. Ruben paid it no mind. Placing his open palms squarely on the stone door, he gave it an expert push and started forward once more.
He nearly walked right into the solid stone before realizing that the thing was stuck. A second attempt widened the threshold by a mere two inches. With a frown, Ruben put his shoulder to the barrier and shoved with all of his strength. The wall gave way, groaning in protest until it could go no further.
Not trusting the old contraption to hold, Ruben hurriedly squeezed through the opening. Once on the other side of the threshold, he took a few steps forward in order to give Arthur enough room to follow, but then he stopped in spite of himself.
While he had had no way of knowing where the passageway would lead, he certainly hadn’t expected to end up outside. Thanks to Plake’s hypothesis, he had been expected to arrive at a small room filled with piles of gold and silver. He and Arthur might have been able to overpower greedy, old Toemis in that scenario.
After wandering for so long in the cramped, stale corridor, Ruben thought that the air smelled downright refreshing. The night was cold, however, with but a sliver of a moon shining down from the heavens. A chorus of chirping crickets ebbed and flowed according to the whimsy of the breeze.
Under other circumstances, it might have been a beautiful scene.
He glanced back at Arthur, wondering what his fellow adventurer made of the situation. The boy had his back to him and was apparently studying the wall they had just passed through.
Ruben looked past Arthur, expecting to find the outer wall of the fortress, but to his amazement, he saw only hard, rocky earth. The fort was nowhere to be seen. The passage they had just stepped out of might have resembled a cave where it not for the unnatural, square shape of it.
When the wall closed again, Ruben could scarcely discern where the opening had been in the first place. Deciding he needed a better look at their surroundings, he climbed up the side of the ledge. He kept low to the ground once he reached the top of the rise, not wanting to be spotted by Toemis or the sentries back at the fort.
The fort was more than a mile away.
Arthur joined him at the top of the ledge, and the two of them stared in silence at the unexpected discovery. Not only had the passageway provided them with a way out of the fortress, but it had also taken them far from it—far enough away to escape unnoticed. Although he couldn’t quite make out the sentries walking the battlements, Ruben felt exposed. He cast a cursory glance at the expanse of moonlit countryside around them, before sliding back down into the gully once more.
He tried not to think about the fact that they were now trapped outside the fort—there was no lever on this side of the passageway—and focused his thoughts on where Toemis might have gone. He was still determined to find the old man, even if doing so had become significantly more difficult.
Where they stood now must have been a riverbed at one time, though judging by how the ledge had collapsed in several places—not to mention the existence of the tunnel—it had dried up a long time ago. If Toemis had wanted to avoid being seen by the Knights, which he clearly did, he would have probably followed the ditch until he was a bit farther from the fort.
But which direction had the old man taken?
Ruben looked left, then right, and then left again, but neither direction provided any clues. From everything he’d heard, Fort Faith was in the middle of nowhere. There had to be a logical explanation to the old man’s behavior. Ruben just had to reason it out.
Meanwhile, every second he stood there thinking took Toemis and his granddaughter farther and farther away. Desperate for help, he looked to Arthur, who was staring up at the stars.
“Do you know where we are, Arthur?”
His brow crinkled in uncertainty, the Renegade said, “We’re west of the fort. You can just make out the Rocky Crags over that way.” He pointed in the direction opposite of the fortress. “The Divine Divider River should be somewhere nearby, too…maybe a little farther to the south and west.”
Ruben’s surprise must have registered on his face for Arthur quickly added, “We came to Fort Faith from the west, so I know a little about the area.”
Hope swelled in Ruben’s breast. “Do you think you could track Toemis?”
“No,” Arthur was quick to reply. “I don’t know anything about tracking. Othello or Scout might have been able to help you there, but I…”
The boy trailed off, and Ruben looked away. The sad fact was neither Othello nor Scout was here, so it was up to the two of them to figure out how to find the old man.
We’ve got to think like Toemis, Ruben decided. It sounded like a reasonable approach, only they couldn’t think like Toemis until they figured out what he was after, and they couldn’t do that until they knew where he was going and why.
“What I can’t figure out is why he paid good coin to come to Fort Faith in the first place if he was going to up and leave right away,” Ruben snapped.
“Well, he is an old man, and he’s traveling with a little girl,” Arthur said. “Maybe he just needed a place to stay for a while.”
Ruben cast Arthur a sidelong glance. “So, you’re saying what he’s really after has been something near the fort all along?”
Arthur shrugged. “Maybe.”
“He chose Fort Faith because it’s the closest shelter to wherever he really wants to go. But then he got injured. And even after he recovered, the Knights wouldn’t let him leave, not with so many goblins about. So he sneaked away at the first chance he had.”
Arthur looked at him thoughtfully but said nothing.
“They didn’t have any bags with them when I…met them,” Ruben said. “Toemis isn’t planning on stopping until he gets to his secret destination. What does that tell us?”
He was talking more to himself than Arthur. He willed his brain to work harder, to use the facts to put the final pieces of the puzzle together.
“An old man and a little girl can’t walk forever,” Ruben continued, hoping that his ranting would lead to something. “They don’t have any supplies, so they’re not likely to make any long stops. If there’s an ounce of truth to his tale, Toemis probably knows the area well. He probably knows a dozen places nearby to hide out…”
“Hideout,” Arthur echoed.
“What?”
“Hideout!” Arthur wore a big smile. “I think I know where Toemis is going…or where he might be going…if he needs shelter, a place to hide out.”
“Where?”
“Port Stone. It’s southwest of here.”
“There’s a town nearby?” Ruben asked.
“No. I mean, yes. Yes and no,” Arthur stammered. “There used to be a town near the mountains, but it’s been deserted since the Ogre War. The Renegades…we used Port Stone’s inn as a hideout. Some of the buildings are still standing. If Toemis wants a comfortable place to wait out the night, he might be headed there.”
Ruben nodded, his thoughts racing a mile a minute. While there was no way to know with certainty, it was the only reasonable course they had. If Toemis hadn’t stashed his treasure inside the fort, maybe he had buried it in the neighboring town.
“Arthur, do you remember the way to Port Stone?”
The boy gave their surroundings another glance before saying, “Maybe.”
“That’s good enough for me,” Ruben said. “Lead the way!”
* * *
Rather than use the skull-topped staff to bludgeon her, the goblin regarded her with a smug smile. When the monster began chanting again, she struggled but no matter how hard she fought against the spell, she just stood there like a fool.
I am a fool to have tried this alone, Opal thought. She wondered what Lilac and Othello were doing. Were they waiting for a sign from her, confirming she had found Colt? Or had they abandoned her and all hopes of rescuing Colt altogether?
Even as Opal prayed for a rescue, a part of her hoped they were heading in the opposite direction. She had squandered the element of surprise, and even if this goblin hadn’t alerted its allies yet—even if they followed her to this tent unseen—neither Renegade was a match for the skull-staff.
The goblin’s second spell did no more damage than the first. She had no idea what the hex had accomplished until the monster spoke.
“You humans are full of surprises. I underestimated your desperation…and your stupidity.”
As the goblin came toward her, Opal saw it wasn’t looking at her, but at Chrysaal-rûn.
“So this is the blade that thwarted T’slect,” the goblin said. “Rumors of the talisman have already spread through the camp. I have been told that it can cut through metal as easily as cloth. Truly, this weapon could be a great asset to our cause.”
Opal watched—could do nothing but watch—as the goblin took another step forward, bringing its face mere inches from the crystal sword’s keen edge. Again, she tried to break the spell and drive the glassy blade into the creature’s ugly, bald head. Her rebellious arm refused all commands.
“My soldiers tried to take this sword upon capturing the commander and the dwarf, but its magic prevented it. And when they tried to wrap it in a hide, it burned a hole through the leather. They were forced to leave it behind, much to my chagrin.”
The goblin contented itself with studying the crystal sword, its sickle-shaped pupils scouring every inch. Out of the corner of her eye, Opal saw movement. Colt lay perfectly still, probably trapped under the same spell that she was, but the man on the other cot—a man Opal hadn’t even noticed until now—was stirring. Since she couldn’t even move her eyes, Opal saw him as little more than a blurry shape.
“I am very pleased you brought this blade to me,” the goblin said. “Even if I cannot make use of it, at least my enemies will not either.”
The mysterious man rose stealthily, if shakily, from his cot and moved toward the monster. As he drew nearer, Opal was able to make out more details. He might have been handsome once, though now his features were raw-boned. His body was gaunt and weak; his movements, awkward and uncertain.
The goblin stepped directly in front of her, obscuring her view of all else. The fiend was so near she could smell its fetid breath and could make out the individual black veins within its eyes. A wave of revulsion flowed over her when the monster touched her.
“Human females are intriguing animals. You resemble goblin females to a degree, but you are much fatter.” The goblin painfully squeezed one of her breasts. “Personally, I find you repulsive, but some of my soldiers might be interested in exploring the ins and outs of your…pliable anatomy.”
Opal’s fury gave way to terror. This wasn’t the first time she had had to endure the unwanted advances of a man—and she supposed this goblin was technically male—but now she had no way to defend herself against busy hands…or worse…
The goblin fell forward then, nearly knocking her over. At first, she thought it intended to molest her after all, but then it let out a great cry and spun around. The emaciated man was down on one knee and holding the goblin’s knife, coated in thick, black blood.
The man didn’t get a chance to attack again for the goblin drew its sword and plunging the blade deep into the haggard man’s chest. He slumped to the ground with a groan but made not a sound after that.
The goblin limped over to the where the man had fallen, and Opal saw a long gash stretching from its lower back down to one of its thighs. She understood every wicked word that dripped from the fiend’s maw as it picked the wretched man up by his neck. The monster made dread promises and cursed the man’s ancestors a thousand years back.
In a sudden and savage outburst, the goblin tore out the man’s throat with its talon-like fingers.
A strange feeling washed over her. She might not have realized what the sensation portended, except at the same time, her fingers relaxed, and the crystal sword fell to the ground and landed beside the skull-staff. Even as she realized that she was free from the spell, she heard a commotion from somewhere outside the tent, which was immediately followed by a thunderous boom that shook the ground.
The sound of angry voices and stomping footsteps snapped her out of her daze. Scooping up Chrysaal-rûn, she threw herself at the goblin. Upon seeing she was free, the goblin threw itself backward. Unable to check her momentum, Opal could only do her best to avoid falling on her own blade as she tumbled into the wall of the tent. Her collision nearly toppled the thing.
Even as she struggled to regain her feet, she knew that she would be too late. She expected to feel cold steel rip into her back at any moment. Miraculously, the attack never came, and when she managed to right herself, she saw why.
Colt was grappling with the goblin.
The two combatants were laying half on and half off of Colt’s cot. The goblin must have fallen on top of the Knight because Colt was on the bottom, trying to get a firm hold on the creature’s neck while simultaneously avoiding the flailing sword. Jabbing its armor-clad elbow into Colt’s ribs, the monster finally managed to extricate itself from Colt’s grip.
When the goblin saw her and, more importantly, the crystal sword, it hesitated, glancing over at where the skull staff lay. Go ahead, Opal silently taunted. I’ll cut you in half before you’re halfway there! Apparently the goblin had come to the same conclusion, for it hesitated, glaring at her with unadulterated hatred.
Colt kicked out at the monster and connected with its wounded leg. The goblin crumpled, but as it fell, it grabbed onto the wall. The entire tent came down with it. Unable to see anything, Opal tried to push the heavy tarp off of her, but it was a useless endeavor. A couple of swings with Chrysaal-rûn freed her from the stifling environment.
The first thing she saw was the injured goblin limping away from the fallen tent. Next, she noticed the upright bulge in the canvas that was making exaggerated movements and calling her name. Finally, she took in the throng of goblin soldiers that were arriving on the scene.
Ignoring the monsters for the moment, Opal cut a hole for Colt. She didn’t know what she expected the Knight to say, but she was surprised when he grabbed her by the shoulder and said, “Where is it?”
Opal held Chrysaal-rûn out to him.
“No, not that! The vuudu staff! Where is it?”
Seemingly oblivious to the enemies surrounding them, Colt dropped to his knees and patted the ground around him. Opal was too stunned to do anything but go along with it. “I think it fell somewhere over here,” she said.
When her hands found a round object that was connected to a longer, thinner shape, she didn’t hesitate. She used Chrysaal-rûn to rip the canvas an
d pulled back the material. She reached for the skull-tipped staff, but Colt yanked it out of her grasp, rising to his feet in the same motion.
Opal stood too and saw some of the goblins stealing up on them. Their advance ceased as soon as they saw Chrysaal-rûn—and the skull-staff.
If any of them had brought a bow, we’d be dead already, Opal thought.
At that moment, another explosion shook the camp. A blaze of fire streak up to the sky from somewhere in the distance. The goblins surrounding them appeared to be gripped by indecision, alternating their stare from the black, billowing smoke to the two humans. Of the wounded goblin there was no sign.
Opal grabbed Colt by the arm and said, “Follow me.”
She ran headlong at the goblins standing between them and the forest. Weary though she was, she expertly cleaved through the line. Beside her, Colt used the skull-staff like a club, beating down any foe that came too near. There were a dozen or more goblins right behind them, but Opal knew if they stopped to drive even one of them off, the rest would pounce like ravenous wolves.
Having cut a path through the pack, the she and Colt sprinted for the forest. The trees all looked the same, so she could only guess at the general direction from which she had come. And even if I do find the way back, there’s no guarantee we’ll find any help there, she thought. Nevertheless, they kept moving. Losing their pursuers in the trees was the only choice they had.
When Opal saw Lilac step out of the forest, flapping her arms like a crazy bird, she laughed out loud and altered her course.
Passage X
When Opal didn’t reemerge from the tent after several long minutes, Lilac considered her options. She had no way of knowing what had happened to the woman, but to find out would mean sharing in Opal’s fate.
If she had seen which direction Othello had gone, she might have followed. She doubted she could convince the forester to abandon Opal. Then again, there was a chance he had already left them both. Lilac shook her head and prayed he would return.
Williams, D M - Renegade Chronicles [Collection 1-3] Page 80