Song Of Mornius

by Diane E Steinbach

  “Avalar is correct; we bear elven chains now. And for the sake of the world, we must toil on. But these mariners . . . threatening a child! What are we, if we forget who we are?”

  “You will forgive me,” Ponu said softly, “if I leave Kray here? I intend to ask Grev to watch him for me, and I am hoping you might help your brother, considering the hostility some giants still feel. It would just be for a few days, Kurg.”

  “Pardon me, Ponu,” the big giant said. “But I shall be on my ship, striving to forget the ills of this world. I will let the rumor spread, however: what I personally vow to do to any coward who touches this boy.”

  The portal flew open with a bang and a blast of frigid wind. Grevelin charged in, shaking caked-on ice from his collar and scarf, bringing with him a swirl of snow. “Another whopper from the North,” he rumbled. “You may look for your giants in the cook-room, Kurg. Leader Trentor’s orders—they shall not be mending Dawncutter’s hull today!”

  As Grevelin moved to shut and bolt the ironwood door, he spotted the child and snorted. “Ponu, you bring our little friend, I see.”

  “Not so little,” said Kray. The boy had retreated, hugging his stuffed rabbit to his chest at the sight of so many giants. He spoke boldly from behind Ponu’s wings. “I’m eight years old!”

  “Eight years!” Grevelin crouched low and snapped his fingers. “Come here, young warrior! Show me your muscles!”

  “Grevelin—” Ponu began. He stopped, his mouth dropping open as Kray marched straight into the giant’s huge hands. The Leader Second, his gaze thoughtful, cradled the boy in his massive arms.

  Grevelin had been among the first giants to agree to help the human tribes in the North who, like the elves, were targeted by the Sundor Khan. Still, Ponu thought, I do not believe he has ever seen a human this young before. “Will you care for him, Grev? I will not be long. Soon, one way or another, all this will end.”

  “You’ll come back for me, Ponu?” Kray asked.

  “Of course,” Ponu assured him, “as soon as I possibly can.” Tapping his staff on the soft woven rug, he raised his eyes to his friend’s face. “Can you protect him, Grev? I know grown giants would never injure a little boy, but you have some youngsters here that I do not trust!”

  “No true giant would hurt a child,” Kurg growled. “But do hasten back, Ponu. For many, this small human shall indeed evoke memories—pain none of us deserve.”

  “We must all do our part,” Grevelin chided his brother. “We cannot fight as we wish, so we must aid those who can. After all, we are giants! Surely we can bear the memories if we must.”

  Kurgenrock grunted. “We defend the helpless,” he agreed, inclining his head. “If I see this child in peril on the shore, I shall ward him. Yet Dawncutter is my first concern, and we will sail on the morrow!”

  Kurgenrock strode to unbar the door, letting the wind swing it to smack the wall. He strode out, his body swallowed at once by the storm.

  “At the least, his intentions are good!” Grevelin lunged for the hatch and, with his one free arm, slammed it shut.

  Ponu smiled at Kray already drowsing in the giant’s embrace. “He trusts you, Grev.”

  Chuckling, Grevelin lifted one of the boy’s tiny fingers. “Same size as Avalar’s when she was a babe.”

  “Don’t let him hear you say that!” Ponu warned with a laugh. “Grev, I must go. I shut my eyes and I try to sleep, and I see innocent humans in the dark, waiting to be tortured or killed. I cannot rest. I will not rest until this is over.”

  “You must follow your heart, of course,” Grevelin responded. “But do not forget we are bonded. I will perish if you die, and then so will the world.”

  “You should not forget who I am!” Ponu said as he flared his wings, waggling his brows until at last Kray chuckled. “Now stop it, Grev. No more talk of dying!”

  Chapter 51

  FELRINA TENSED AS they approached the fork ahead, the tunnel splitting into twin narrow shafts separated by a wedge of mottled rock. She cocked her head at the muffled sound of water. “The river,” she muttered, slipping between Terrek and the wall toward the split in the passage. Somewhere at the end of one of these paths, the Shukaia cut through the fire-mountain’s core.

  Avalar peered down each of the tunnels in turn. “Old magic,” she muttered, sniffing the air.

  Felrina squinted into the depths of the shaft closest to her. Without the ghost’s green light, she was blind, staring at darkness. If only I had my staff, the thought intruded, then I’d see, and I could— She caught herself. Oh no, what am I thinking?

  Felrina glanced at Gaelin. He needs to bring his light closer.

  “You know this place,” Avalar said. “What is your counsel?”

  “I don’t have any . . .” Taken aback, Felrina frowned. I don’t know, she wanted to say. Instead, she covered her face and pointed. “There!”

  “That is a wall,” Avalar growled. “Care to try again?”

  Felrina, opening her eyes, regarded her jutting finger. Slowly, she moved her hand toward the sound of the distant rapids. “That w-way,” she stammered. “My pool got its water from s-somewhere. Yes, that must be the way.” She sighed and shook her head. “To be honest, I don’t know. We never used this level!”

  “No, why would you?” Avalar said. “My people carved these holes, for they were laborers. Diggers. While the slaves you create maim and kill.”

  Felrina stumbled back from the giant’s ire. “We don’t make slaves,” she said. “We’ve never. . . There are a lot of things I regret. But I do not believe in slavery, and we never k-kept—”

  “Pardon? What would you call the dachs?” Avalar demanded.

  “Enough, Giant.” Terrek motioned Gaelin forward. The staff-wielder padded by, his footfalls silent.

  Felrina waited, watching while Gaelin dipped Mornius’s heavy crown into the mouth of the first opening. Then she jumped as Terrek gripped the nape of her neck and set her in Mornius’s light.

  “Which one, Felrina? To get us within striking distance of Erebos, which way should we go?”

  His grasp had the power to snap her bones, his fingers just as hard and unyielding as Mens’s had been. She gagged, and her knees buckled.

  The tunnel went uncomfortably silent. Avalar crouched in front of her with her big hand extended. Felrina clung to the giant’s strength, drawing herself back to her feet.

  “She already told me,” Avalar said to Terrek. “The right-hand passage is best.”

  Felrina nodded. “I’m just guessing,” she said. “I . . . don’t have the B-blazenstone anymore, so I can’t—”

  “Why didn’t you just say so?” Terrek asked. “I’m not going to kill you for not knowing the answer.”

  “I don’t like to be grabbed like that!” she burst out.

  “I’m sorry,” said Terrek. “I wasn’t thinking. It won’t happen again.” He gestured to his men. “Enough of this. Let’s go.”

  Felrina stiffened when Avalar clasped her shoulder. “Stay back with me,” the giant said.

  Unresisting, Felrina let the big hands guide her, coaxing her next to the wall and to the coolness of the rock as she slumped against it.

  “Let the others go first,” Avalar urged. “You and I will take the rear. You have clung to my leader long enough. He will need his arms for battle when it comes!”

  “Holram agrees with her,” Gaelin quietly told Terrek. “If we want to reach the river, the right side is best.”

  “Good,” replied Terrek. “Let’s go.”

  Felrina watched as Terrek and the guards entered the tunnel. Gaelin, his flickering light held high, walked behind the larger men.

  Vyergin hesitated, stopping in front of her. “It’ll get better, my dear,” he said. “Terrek’s a good man. I think you know that.”

  Felrina jerked away from his touch on her cheek. With a soft sigh, he continued on, quickening his pace to remain in the staff’s circle of light.

  “That was rude,�
�� Avalar remarked. “Vyergin has only ever been kind to you.”

  “I still say he should have left you dead!” Roth snapped, shoving his face close to hers. “Next time we stop, I wouldn’t try sleeping if I were you.”

  Felrina shivered as he stamped off, the force of his steps jiggling his out-of-place hat. She had nothing of value to tell him. It’s true, she thought. I do deserve death. Camron Florne was my friend. And Nithra! My own father!

  “Come,” Avalar commanded.

  Felrina pushed herself from the wall into the darkening gloom. She was too tired to resist, and Terrek’s compassion wounded her, reminding her of the friend she had lost, the man who had loved her.

  Her nerves were afire, painful needles at the back of her neck jabbing her as she walked. A pressure mounted in her chest. She was gasping, struggling for air.

  “Easy,” the giant soothed her. “Felrina Vlyn, stop. Look at me!”

  Felrina doubled over. Then, as Gaelin’s staff rounded the distant bend, the space all around them went black. “Oh!” She clutched at her chest.

  Avalar gripped her shoulder, seeking to steady her. “Whoever injured you is gone,” the giant said. “Lean down and breathe. Put your head between your knees.”

  “This is wrong!” Felrina groaned. “We’re headed straight f-for Erebos! He’s who we have to f-fight. The one who hurt me—he’s just a t-tool!”

  “We shall fight them both,” said Avalar. “And he will die, or mayhap we shall. Either way, there will be an end.”

  Felrina sank onto her heels. The thought of Mens unraveled her, laying her flat on the tunnel’s unyielding stone while she pictured him looming above and cutting her slowly. Her blood dripped from the blade of his knife when he raised it; she felt it pouring over her ribs, her limbs trembling as he savagely thrust between her legs.

  “He raped me!” she cried. “He c-cut me and h-he . . . !” Screaming, she flailed, her fists striking the floor.

  The giant settled next to her on the stone. There was a pause, and then another—a long silence dragging out, filled with Avalar’s soft breathing while Felrina’s cries gradually faded, the two of them huddled side by side on the frigid stone.

  “I know not this word ‘rape,’ ” Avalar murmured at last. “Felrina, we must go.”

  She glanced up. “You should hate me,” she whispered. “The only one who does is Roth. I don’t understand it.”

  “Felrina Vlyn, come.” Avalar clasped her wrist.

  Teetering upright, Felrina shambled forward, leaning on the giant’s strong and steady hand. Once more her knees were failing. As she began to fall, Avalar swept her up, cradling her gently.

  “No . . .” She pressed her brow to the throb of the giant’s heart. “I’m sorry.”

  She drifted, lulled by a feeling of release. Through her lashes she caught a flicker of orange, and then she smelled smoke. Something was burning in the mountain’s dead shell, the tall flames licking at the stone.

  Chapter 52

  FELRINA GLIMPSED A flicker through the darkness of the mineshaft. The young giant who carried her was catching up with the rest of their companions. Shifting in Avalar’s grasp, she strained to focus through the gloom. The giant was trotting now, her rhythmic strides sending tiny shocks along Felrina’s spine.

  “There’s a tunnel above us!” Vyergin boomed. “Here, Terrek, take a look!”

  Felrina nodded, remembering the labyrinth of Erebos’s temple. For a flicker of an instant, she glimpsed a shadow jutting down at her face from the rock overhead, the blackness forming itself into a massive scaly muzzle with its jaws gaping, the heat of its breath searing her as she shrank back.

  She batted at Avalar’s arms to get her attention. But the giant’s chin was up, her swift footsteps hastening them around a corner toward her friends.

  “He’s here,” Felrina gasped, tugging at Avalar’s sleeve below her bracer. “Erebos is here!”

  Frowning, Avalar set her onto her feet.

  Felrina stumbled past the staff-wielder to Vyergin, who held up his torch next to the break in the ceiling.

  “I hope it’s safe for the fire,” Terrek murmured to her, scraping his fingernail along the rock. “There’s no sign of mold. No spores.”

  “The toxic mold was intended as an outer d-defense,” she said, “so I don’t think a torch will k-kill us. We light sconces in the passageways higher up. That’s one way you will know you’re g-going in the right direction.”

  Vyergin grunted, tipping her an approving nod as she stepped closer to him. He thrust the flaming wood into the hole.

  “This one’s old, too,” she said, catching a glimpse of cobwebs along the wall of the upper shaft. She averted her face from a pattering of grit and rose on tiptoe to see. “We d-don’t use these lower levels. That’s why they’re so dirty. But this will get us nearer. You’ll have to k-keep climbing to reach the chambers we used.”

  “Good girl,” said Terrek. “Roth, I need a boost!”

  Avalar, moving forward, caught Terrek under his arms and lifted him over the rim, setting him on his knees. “First, we must find the river,” she corrected Felrina. “Or mayhap I shall go there myself if you do not. It is what the Bloodsword, Redeemer, sang to me.”

  “I d-didn’t know,” Felrina said. “I assumed you were here for Erebos, too.” She held her breath as Avalar raised her through the gap to the passage above. Terrek squatted low, reaching to help her slide in beside him.

  “I have my own destiny,” Avalar said, looking up. “I know not what it is.” Unbending her body stiffly, the giant stood tall, her chest and shoulders extending through the aperture in the floor, blocking the torchlight from below as she surveyed the new tunnel.

  Shadows rushed from both directions as the narrower passageway went dark. Felrina backed away from the giant, colliding with—

  Her body tensed. “Ter—”

  A clawlike hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her cry. She twisted, kicking as she fought to scream a warning.

  Terrek sprang to his feet and whirled, snatching out his sword. “Avalar!” he bellowed. “Get the others up here!”

  Felrina squirmed as more dachs surged past her with their sabers raised, their claws scrabbling along the shaft’s rocky floor and their tails curling above their wingless backs. Poison dripped down their skin from their barbed spines and streamed from their teeth as they lunged at Terrek.

  Felrina bit into the palm of the creature holding her, until her mouth filled with its rank blood. The dach screeched, its grip loosening, its fangs biting at her throat. With a howl, she tore herself free.

  “Commander!” yelled Roth as the giant tossed him onto the stone in front of Terrek. Then Avalar scrambled up, her larger bulk filling the narrow space. With a thunderous roar, she routed their charging attackers, chasing the warped humans into the darkness.

  Roth’s long limbs thrashed as he struggled to stand. Bending swiftly, Terrek seized him and yanked him to his feet.

  Felrina dashed to help the men. She had no weapon, but she knew these creatures. Roth and Terrek stood shoulder to shoulder to battle their two remaining foes, with the blade in Terrek’s hand flaking bits of rust in the torch’s frail light, looking as if it might break from its hilt at any moment. Then a dach caught at Terrek and hurled him past the gap in the floor, its tail curling as it leapt to follow.

  Felrina launched herself at Terrek’s assailant, colliding with its scaly ribs. With all her might, she heaved against the creature, using her weight to unbalance it. It reeled, flinging her aside as it whipped around. She caught a shimmer of green at the corner of her vision—the ghost knight flitting low toward Terrek behind her.

  A blow like a fist punched her off her feet. She jerked back as pain tore through her body. Beneath the curve of her breasts, she saw it—the old rusty steel dripping with her blood.

  Dimly Felrina glimpsed the specter hovering, grinning as he bowed before her. He was rising or she was sinking; she could not tell and
she did not care. All she knew was the agony in her belly, the deep tearing within as she tried to draw breath. Gasping in shock and pain, she watched as Silva seized the dach and rammed a dagger through its throat.

  Suddenly dizzy, she began to fall.

  “Felrina!”

  Terrek grabbed for her shoulder as he held his sword’s blade steady within her. Gently he eased her to the floor.

  “Hang on!” he shouted. “Vyergin, get Gaelin up here now!”

  “Terrek!” Felrina clung to him.

  “I can’t take it out,” he told her, his voice raw with grief. “Not until Gaelin gets here.”

  “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—” Her legs were heavy and numb. An icy blanket enfolded her. “Terrek?” Felrina gasped.

  She spat up blood. The tunnel whirled and faded, replaced by the dazzling brightness of a windy funnel and a figure within it striding toward her. It was Camron bending down to cup her face with his hands. Felrina drank in the sight of his freckled nose, his soft sparkling eyes glinting with tears.

  She shivered as he kissed her forehead, his fingers caressing her cheek. I am so sorry! she ached to say.

  Smiling, Camron nodded. “I need you to live!”

  Felrina blinked as the light winked out. She tasted blood in her mouth. A weight dragged at her body, ripping her away from where she wanted to be—from Camron’s face smiling at her. She struggled as Gaelin knelt on the stone beside her, power lancing out from Mornius’s gem, flashing from his open palms.

  “No!” She reached into the shadows beneath the flicker of Vyergin’s torch. “Camron! Don’t go!”

  A fierce multicolored fire struck at the blade that cut through her, driving the steel tip back until, with a clang, the ancient weapon fell free.

  Terrek flung it away. His glare lashed the ghost. “If you ever—”

  “What?” Argus demanded. “Do you blame me? I’m just a ghost. ‘I’ve forgotten how it is to be human!’  And yes, I heard you! It doesn’t matter where I am, I hear you when you mention my name! Oh, but I’m the evil one? You sit there coddling a murderer, and I’m the villain?”