Song Of Mornius

by Diane E Steinbach

  “You have forgotten how it is,” Terrek said. “And I stand by what I said.” He stroked Felrina’s cheek and pulled her close. Beside them, Gaelin slumped against the wall.

  “Gaelin!” Terrek yanked the fiery staff from its wielder. As the Skystone dimmed, he placed Mornius on the floor and patted Gaelin’s arm. “Enough,” he said. “She’s healed, my friend.”

  With a grateful sigh, Gaelin sank to his haunches.

  Felrina stared at the ceiling. “I’m still linked with him,” she murmured. “How else . . . ? He knows I’m here.”

  “Forget Erebos,” Terrek said. “Don’t talk, Felrina. Let me think.”

  She lay in his arms and savored the moment, the feel of his touch she had longed for and missed. But then she stiffened; inexplicably she began to struggle.

  He released her, helping her to sit on her own as his men returned with Avalar crouching behind them, her face and hair spattered with gore. Roth bumped along the side of the tunnel, his skin ashen, blood dripping from the arm he cradled to his chest. The limb was half severed below the shoulder and flopped with his every step.

  Clambering to his feet, Gaelin rushed to help him.

  Felrina, averting her eyes from the two fallen dachs, stretched out her legs on the dusty floor. Across the shaft, Gaelin wilted, falling to a heap of exhaustion next to the wall. Roth settled beside him, tears streaming down his face as he fingered the shredded remains of his stovepipe hat.

  “It’s my fault,” Felrina said. “Erebos knows I’m here.”

  “He knows Holram is here,” Terrek said. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Tell me why you called Camron’s name.”

  “Y-you won’t like it,” she whispered. “You’ll get angry.”

  Terrek sighed. “I’m too tired for that. Just tell me.”

  Felrina looked at him sadly. “Camron spoke to me,” she said. “He was right there.” She pointed. “He . . . k-kissed me. I didn’t want him to go.”

  “Neither did I,” said Terrek. “And neither did Roth.” Reaching out, he gripped Gaelin’s arm and motioned to the dachs. “Holram wishes to restore them, doesn’t he? You tell him no. You’ve had enough.”

  Vyergin busied himself digging through Avalar’s pack. He tossed a rag onto Terrek’s lap and then foraged deeper. “Avalar, where? Oh, never mind—here.” He lifted out the vessel that contained their water.

  The diradil stomach sloshed and gurgled when Vyergin passed it to Roth. “You first, son. Drink your fill. The river is close. And you next, Lady Vlyn.”

  “We need rest, too, not just food,” Terrek said, glaring at his bloody sword.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  GRINNING, PONU CROUCHED below the dripping canopy of a massive tropical fern. Of all the pockets or worldlets he had designed between the various dimensions, this one was, by far, his favorite. He surveyed the human he had brought with him, lifting a brow as Justin Tinsley groaned and thrashed awake in the lee of a large boulder. The young man squinted, then raised a hand to shield his eyes. After years underground, the gray-robe had become nocturnal.

  “Once you’re here for a while,” drawled Ponu, “you’ll find you can control the intensity of the sun. But for now . . .” He lowered his hand, and the brightness faded.

  “What?” His captive rolled onto his knees, a speckling of tiny green leaves clinging to his garments. Reaching up in bewilderment, Justin picked at the corner of his mouth, drawing a thin strand of cobweb from his lower lip and neatly trimmed beard. “Where am I?”

  Ponu stepped from the fern and flexed his wings. “The first morning is always difficult,” he said. “But I believe, in time, you will enjoy your little prison. A tropical island! Ooh, paradise!”

  The human climbed to his feet and turned in his heavy gray robes, taking in the world around him. “I don’t understand. What is this place?”

  “I call these realms between universes ‘pockets,’ because they’re good to hide things in. In fact, there is another one right next to yours. See?” Ponu raised his hand, tickled the air briefly with his fingers, and then drew an invisible line from above his head to the ground. “Think of it like a zipper from your Earth. If you attended the old Earth inventions class at Braymore, you’ll know what that is. Imparting such wisdom was part of the curriculum, I do believe. Now if I do this.” He parted the opening he had made in the empty air, and the man recoiled.

  “Ice!” Justin gasped.

  “Not all dimensions fit tightly together,” Ponu explained. “There can be pockets in the in-between, emptiness waiting to be filled. This one”—he nodded to the sliver of frozen wasteland he had revealed to the human before coaxing the air to conceal it again—“would be a fitting place for Allastor Mens if he were to live, which he will not.”

  “Am I dreaming?” Justin asked. “You must be an angel!” He stumbled past Ponu, extending his hand to swipe at the air.

  Ponu laughed. “You cannot feel it; you have no magic,” he said. “You are too heavy-handed. Besides that, you would never find it again because the pockets move. They are never in the same place for very long.”

  He grinned at the prisoner’s blank expression. “How interesting you know the term ‘angel.’ Are you educated?”

  Justin nodded. “I did five years at Braymore University,” he said. “My certifications are in—”

  “Yes, impressive,” Ponu cut him off. “So you do know zippers.” He gestured to a grassy patch of ground, and a clear rippling pool appeared. “After seeing that frozen wilderness, perhaps now you appreciate this temperate sanctuary I’ve given you. There’s all the fresh water you could want, and you’ll have fish in the sea—I’ve made sure of that—and cone mollusks in the sand. There’s more food, too, if you forage thoroughly enough. Fruits and betel nuts. The grass is edible if you boil it. I would even call it tasty.”

  Ponu gestured to the objects beside the human’s foot. “There’s a fire stick there, and a pot for heating water, and a knife. I suspect until you learn how to manipulate your little realm, you may wish to modify your apparel a bit. I regret I cannot change the temperature of this place.

  “And now I must be off,” Ponu said, springing atop the mossy boulder. “There are others I need to capture. You’re fortunate. For I am only sparing the members of your order who have not touched the bloodstones.” He smiled.

  Dazed, the gray-robe rubbed his forehead. “My order?”

  “Whatever you call your cult these days. I suspect it might not be too late for you, Justin, and that your mind can be healed. Hopefully, your absence will go unnoticed for a while. You weren’t important, were you?”

  The human hung his head.

  “Happily,” Ponu added, “I have scores of pockets just like this one where I can isolate each of you. And while you are imprisoned, don’t be surprised if you start feeling some remorse, for I have cleared your mind of Erebos’s influence. Now, at last, you will comprehend all the evil you have done. And once you do, you might wish to compose your appeal, for when you stand before the elves.”

  Justin started. “Elves?”

  “Guilt-ridden already?” Ponu asked. “Good. I can tell you’ve heard of the Seekers. Strange folk, those elves. They actually revere harmony and peace . . . can you imagine?

  “They made rules for you humans to follow, too, if I recall, as a condition for you to live on their world. Which is why you’re in my dungeon now. On Talenkai, things like torture and cannibalism are not allowed. But fear not, you will be spared, I am sure, for the elves do not kill. At worst, you’ll end up back here, an environment you can change yourself, once you figure it out. Or you may be assigned a special task. There are a lot of orphaned children now, thanks to Erebos. Perhaps you’ll do something useful with your life before your end.”

  “I . . . but I—”

  “Oh, and that angel myth on your world. That was us. My people. For behold!” Ponu said, and as his grin stretched wide, he flared his white wings.

  Chapter 53

&n
bsp; FELRINA LEANED AGAINST the wall of the shaft. They had traveled briefly, just enough to leave the smell of blood behind, and the sight of the two dead dachs. Now she reclined as the others did, her gaze on Roth slumping to the floor across from her. Beside him hovered Vyergin, holding the unwieldy diradil pouch high so Roth could drink.

  The lieutenant was very pale. The fabric of his tunic sagged loosely where the dach’s saber had cut, exposing his bare shoulder. And yet he barely registered the water he gulped or the gooseflesh from his arm’s exposure to the cold. His attention was on the shredded hat, tears running down his face.

  Vyergin moved closer, waving the bag to make it gurgle. “More!” he commanded. “You lost a lot of blood, son. You don’t get to say no.”

  Felrina recognized Vyergin from her childhood. He had been Captain of the Enforcers while she was still playing with the Florne boys in the river alongside her cabin. She remembered well his visits on his tall black horse, and how Nithra, her father, had always respected and heartily welcomed him.

  I know you, too, she thought as her gaze turned to Deravin Silva, for wherever Terrek went in his youth—and every day it was on a different mount—so did Silva on his black-tail with the funny short legs. The gray gelding had hopped like a rabbit when it galloped, its horrible conformation drawing laughter from Lucian Florne, and yet it was always the horse Deravin chose. The stocky guard had swayed proudly in the saddle with his huge goofy grin, yet always he was quick to flash his fists whenever Terrek Florne was bullied.

  Her eyes moved on to Wren, admiring the gleaming black hair and high cheekbones of his native blood. She had seen him once or twice in Kideren buying supplies, and yet she knew he did not live there. He was of the Shamath Tribe, a conglomerate of native cultures—what remained of them from Earth—which had built a community of longhouses in the chain of meadows between Mount Desheya and the Shamath River. And now you’re Gaelin’s guard, she thought, smiling.

  As Roth rejected Vyergin’s coaxing at last, Felrina made herself look at him. Would he really kill me if I fall asleep?

  She jerked back when Vyergin appeared next to her with a large metal cup. Felrina held it still while he filled it, shivering as the splash of cool water rinsed the grime from her hands. She mouthed her thanks and then drained the cup.

  Once more he poured, grunting when he soaked her skin in his struggle to maneuver the bag. This time, shutting her eyes, she savored the musty fluid, the coolness rushing through her, reviving her depleted flesh. Sighing, she sank back, stretching out her legs as she returned to her study of Roth. We need to talk about this, she thought. I can’t keep worrying about what he will do.

  “Commander,” she said abruptly. “How d-did you meet Caven Roth? I’ve never seen him before.”

  Terrek drank from Vyergin’s bag and, catching the water in his hands, splashed it on his face. Then he rubbed himself dry with the rag he had on his lap. Clearing his throat, he answered, “He injured himself crossing Vale Horse. Riding that scatterbrained nag of his. He was trying to get to Kideren for help. But Jack the jackrabbit threw him from a cliff.”

  “I was being chased,” Roth corrected. “You’ll never guess by who!”

  Felrina drew a deep breath. “I’ve only heard pieces of your story. I would really like—”

  “Jack was exhausted. He didn’t throw me; he tripped!” said Roth with a glare at Terrek. “One of your minions tried to hang me from a tree over Thunder River, but my thrashings broke the rope. I escaped and got to Jack. Your creatures followed.”

  “Roth hails from Cheron,” Terrek explained. “He was away when your dachs hit the city.”

  “Yes, and Jack isn’t a ‘nag,’ either!” Roth snarled. “He outran what no other horse could to save my life. So I could come home to find my mother and sister, Gindle, strung up like deer. Their insides were—”

  “Roth!” Terrek cut in sharply. “She doesn’t need to hear all that.”

  “Why the blazes not? I’ve heard everything about her. I know what she did to Camron, what she did to my family and home! She destroyed Cheron!” Roth cried. “Kideren and Chalse, too, and Tierdon! I can’t believe you’re letting it go! Unlike the ghost, I am not dead. Nor have I forgotten how to be human!”

  Felrina frowned at the generous slice of dried racka-hare Vyergin offered. As she brushed him aside, he seized her wrist and curled her reluctant fingers around the meat.

  “This again?” Terrek scowled at Roth. “First this cursed sword slips in my grasp to impale the woman I vowed to protect, and now this! Roth, stop it! Did you miss what just happened? She almost died defending me!”

  Roth lowered his head. “I didn’t see how she got wounded.”

  “Avalar tells me you threatened her, again, even after I told you to leave her alone,” Terrek continued. “ ‘I wouldn’t try sleeping if I were you.’ Isn’t that what you said?”

  Roth sat rigid. His jaw muscles bunching, he nodded slowly.

  Felrina jumped to his defense. “He has every right to be angry! I knew what was happening to your towns and cities. I didn’t do it myself, but I created the things that did. I held the Blazenstone and was Erebos’s chosen! I k-killed people and turned them into slaves,” she said in a husky voice, feeling Avalar’s stare boring into the back of her neck. “And when this is all over, I will be visiting the Seekers, and they will judge me!”

  Gaelin squinted at her. “Would you be able to hold another stone?”

  “What are you implying, Gaelin?” Terrek asked.

  “I’m sick,” he said. “I couldn’t change those dachs into humans again when Holram wanted me to. I barely do anything, and still I’m struggling to stay on my feet. What if I die? Who will help Holram fight?”

  “Fight? Is that your plan?” Felrina demanded. “To let the w-warders battle each other until this mountain tumbles down around your ears? If Chesna breaks, the shield protecting the world will be gone. They’d go straight into the clouds and that—”

  “Would kill us all,” Terrek finished for her.

  “Two dragons,” said Felrina. “What we see of them in the physical realm is not what they are at all! Their presence would fill the sky!”

  “If I die,” Gaelin persisted, “Holram will need someone. He can’t do this alone!”

  “Someone who isn’t me!” growled Felrina. “I’m not a good person. I—”

  “Do you think I am?” Gaelin asked. “I killed an unarmed drunk with an ax! At least for you, I suspect you loved Camron; somehow you meant well. But for me, all I’ve known is hate, not love. And still Holram chose me. When I am no better than you!”

  Felrina rubbed at her gritty eyelids. “There was love,” she admitted. “Any benefits Erebos gained came from my pain, not Camron’s. I was t-trying to spare him, hiding the fact I loved him like a b-brother! If Mens had discovered the truth, Camron’s death would have been horrible!”

  Terrek coughed. “We’ve never had a plan, Felrina. This was our last hope. To get here and stop him!”

  “The river is the key.” Avalar dropped down beside them with a thud. “I know it is. I would sing the song to you, but it is not in your language. The Bloodsword sang it to me when I was a child. It spoke of . . .” She furrowed her brow. “Off in the land that your people most fear, down in the pit where so many giants suffered . . . under the ground near the rock stained brown . . . It mentions a wall filled with bloodstones, and water through the rock leading the way.

  “Somehow the river will fulfill my destiny, and mayhap yours as well. As the wind heard my call on the cliff by the castle and saved my life, so does the water heed giants. I could have quieted the sea. Avaunt, storm . . . and the waves would have stilled for me.”

  “Bloodstones,” Felrina whispered to Gaelin. “Don’t they kill giants?”

  “I’ll take first watch,” Terrek announced, glancing at the faces around him. “It’s not safe to stop, but I don’t see any other choice. Lieutenant Roth, there won’t be a third time. Eno
ugh! Let her be!”

  Roth nodded wearily. “I didn’t know she defended you, Commander. I suppose that changes things.”

  Terrek smiled at Felrina. “Yes, I think it does.”

  Argus lowered himself slowly in their midst, his green glow merging with the glints of gold from the torch. He glowered at them all, his face tight with pain.

  “Something to say?” Terrek growled.

  “Only that Erebos is here!” snapped Argus. “Like a winged worm, he weaves through the corpse of this rotted mountain. He’s in the wall behind your backs, his jaws fixing on you! This rock becomes his limbs, and they will throttle you. I would not take rest! You must hurry!”

  Avalar attacked the pack beside her, pulling out the remaining pieces of her leather-lined steel armor.

  “Why the panic?” Argus asked. “You knew Erebos was near. My purpose is not to state the obvious, but to clarify what dangers you face. He likes to be slow. Cat and mouse is his favorite game! And Felrina Vlyn is not a concern to him anymore. He doesn’t want her.”

  “Good!” Felrina muttered fiercely. “I don’t want him, either!”

  The ghost arched his brow. “You’re used to Holram,” he continued to Terrek. “Erebos is different. Within these tunnels, he does as he pleases—takes on any form, wolf, bear, or worse! This mountain is dead. He killed it without even trying, so it would shield him.”

  He heaved a sigh. “Terrek Florne, my time grows short. You brought my sword, and soon you must throw it away. Felrina Vlyn speaks truly about one thing. Camron is here. All the lives the Destroyer, Erebos, took are converging now, and your brother is among them. As a trained knight, I have become the leader of these dead; they will fight for me when the time comes! Together, we will break the spell that holds Arawn in this realm—and myself as well. But as for Erebos . . .”

  Felrina followed his gaze toward the staff-wielder. Gaelin sat, oblivious, his body glowing in the tunnel’s dim light, his skin translucent as if it burned from within. Tremors shook his narrow frame. “Holram gathers his strength,” Argus observed. “He senses his foe. This will end soon, Terrek Florne. Your staff-wielder will not last much longer.”