by Kay L. Ling
“So I did,” he conceded with a frown.
“We didn’t expect Lana to come back, Artham, and here she is with Fair Lands gems, and more importantly, the ability to use them. This gives us a great advantage.” When Artham didn’t reply, Raenihel said firmly, “You can’t deny she would be helpful in freeing our friends, and she may be able to prevent Sheamathan’s incursion into the Fair Lands. If teaching Lana about our gems helps her—and us—we should teach her all we know.”
“Yes, no doubt you’re right.” Artham sighed, resigned but clearly not happy about it. “I have no problem with her using Fair Lands gems in Shadow, but allowing her to learn about ours as well can be dangerous, as you well know. I suppose I must leave the past in the past and focus on the future. Do as you think best.”
“If Lana is ready, I will take her to Shadow.” Raenihel took Artham’s arm and said in a reverent tone, “I will take the jeweled knife that was entrusted to our ancestors.”
Artham nodded solemnly. “Gnomes will never master the Challenger’s blade. Perhaps Lana can.”
Lana felt a shiver run through her. The jeweled blade owned by the Challenger? It sounded intriguing, and she could hardly wait to see it, but how much good had it done its last owner? The legend said he had driven Sheamathan from the Fair Lands, but then he had disappeared. What had become of him? She kept her thoughts to herself. She didn’t want to insult the gnomes. Apparently they thought the legendary blade was a great prize. As far as she was concerned, it was wise to be wary of powerful abandoned artifacts.
Chapter 11
Raenihel gave Lana a cup of fialazza to put her at ease, and then left her by the circle of glowing stones so he could pack for their journey. She had agreed to leave tonight. It would be wise to leave before she lost her nerve. Raenihel frowned. To be fair, it was he who might lose his nerve. He knew their destination in Shadow. Gnomes never willingly traveled to Shadowglade, Sheamathan’s stronghold, but that was where he and Lana must go. He took a deep breath and willed his hands to stop trembling. All his life, he had heard that standing in the woodspirit’s presence was worse than death itself. He had wondered how that could be possible until he had actually encountered Sheamathan in the forest. The intensity of her evil was overwhelming, and being held in thrall was an experience he hoped never to repeat. Going to Shadowglade was foolhardy indeed, but it had to be done.
Raenihel filled a wineskin with fialazza and wrapped several thick portions of dried venison, making sure he had enough for a few days. Although he was ashamed of his deception, he hid the extra rations at the bottom of his pack, and then packed the pouch of nuts, seeds and dried berries for a short trip on top. The deception was necessary, he told himself firmly. Lana believed that this would be the first of several short trips to study native gemstones. She wanted to learn all she could before confronting Sheamathan. While he understood her viewpoint, he couldn’t allow that. Long studies and experimentation took time—time humans and gnomes didn’t have. Besides, Artham was right—too much knowledge was as dangerous as too little. Humans who understood gem lore and had gem powers were too easily swayed by ambition and corrupted by power. It had happened before, and it might happen again. Lana must not linger in Shadow.
The woodspirit’s power had grown. She had crossed through the portal and unleashed her destruction. Now, if history were any guide, the blight would expand outward through the Amulet in an ever-widening circle, altering and corrupting more and more land, so Sheamathan and her minions could occupy it.
Raenihel laid the Challenger’s sheathed knife at the top of the pack and closed the flap. He didn’t know much about the knife or how it worked, but that didn’t matter. Sheamathan feared it. Despite all the years that had passed, he was certain she would recognize the knife, and merely seeing it might be enough to unsettle her plans. He knew all too well that Sheamathan hated to feel vulnerable. She thrived on control and domination.
He picked up the backpack and slipped the straps over his shoulders. Yes, they must implement his strategy immediately. If it wasn’t successful there might be time to think of another plan.
* * *
Lana walked with Raenihel to the portal and stood in front of it, pretending this was just another day. Lana Grayson, gemologist, was going on a field trip. No big deal. She wet her lips and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She couldn’t see the portal, but the air vibrated with energy.
“Are you ready?’ Raenihel asked.
Her voice was a little unsteady when she said, “Yes. Absolutely.” Sure, she was nervous. Who wouldn’t be? But visiting another world was too tantalizing to resist. She placed her hand in his and resisted the urge to close her eyes. She didn’t want to miss anything. She wanted to etch this moment indelibly on her memory.
Raenihel stepped forward, pulling her with him.
There was a brief sensation of pressing against a resistant membrane and then they were through. She had expected it to be more dramatic. Raenihel had promised the transition would be simple and painless and he was right.
But there was no doubt that she had entered a different world. A distinctly different forest with impossibly tall trees surrounded her—trees of such great girth it would take half a dozen men to encircle one. These trees must be hundreds of years old, she decided with a sense of wonder, and they weren’t varieties she recognized. Most had greenish-gray bark and many had patches of oily-looking black moss that clung like leeches to their trunks. A light breeze carried the tang of rotting wood and vegetation.
She looked up. Above the towering trees, the night sky shimmered with a peculiar, silvery haze that left the sky eerily darker than twilight, but not totally dark. Maybe it never got completely dark here, she thought as she studied the sky. A full moon that looked like the full moon at home shone through the haze. She had a million questions but Raenihel was already walking down a narrow dirt path. She frowned in annoyance. Although she hadn’t expected a ‘Welcome to Shadow’ speech, or a running commentary on what she was looking at, a few words to put her at ease would be nice. She hurried after him. The forest had a forbidding look, as if it didn’t care for strangers. The narrow, barely-discernible path suggested that few people traveled here. Probably for good reason, she thought darkly.
A repetitious snapping-clicking sound that she couldn’t quite describe, much less identify, seemed to be coming from the underbrush along the trail. She tilted her head to listen. Some kind of insect? She grimaced, hoping she was wrong. She hated creepy-crawly things. She hadn’t given a passing thought to what species besides gnomes and breghlin lived here. Of course there must be insect and animal life and whatever lived here was probably very different from home. Get a grip, girl. You’ve been here all of five minutes and you’re already wishing you’d stayed home. You can’t learn anything useful about Shadow without seeing it firsthand.
Quickening her pace, she hurried after the elderly gnome. He certainly walked fast for his age, she thought with a mixture of annoyance and respect. “Hey,” she said to get his attention.
“Hmm,” he said without slowing down or looking back.
“Does all of Shadow look like this?”
“Some looks better, some a great deal worse,” he said, which wasn’t particularly helpful. After a moment he added, “There are areas where the blight is less severe and we have tillable ground.”
“I suppose even Sheamathan and her breghlin need to eat.”
“Indeed, but diseased, rotting produce meets their needs and suits their tastes.”
She hoped Raenihel planned to take her to parts of Shadow that looked nicer than this creepy place. “I don’t know how you measure distance, so I don’t know how to ask you this, but how big is Shadow? Like, is it as big as my whole world? The size of the United States? Or maybe more like New York State?” Her voice trailed off. He probably knew too little about her world to make a comparison.
“I really can’t say. Most of us have ventured only a short distance from home, so we have s
een little of our world. Breghlin troops are everywhere, but mostly in the open lands, so we remain in the forests in our Tree Homes or caves. Gnome Safe Havens are in the healthier parts of Shadow.”
“Is that where we’re going?” she asked hopefully. “A Safe Haven?”
“No. We’re going to Shadowglade.”
A chill settled over her. “Why there? Isn’t that where Sheamathan lives? Aren’t we supposed to be looking for gemstones?”
“There are gemstones everywhere, including Shadowglade.” Raenihel stopped and turned to her with an uneasy expression. “You need to see more than gemstones. You need to see what Sheamathan is capable of doing to the Fair Lands, and nothing is more self-explanatory than Shadowglade.”
“That’s where the missing gnomes are, right?” Maybe he wanted her to see where Sheamathan had taken the gnomes so it would be easier to figure out how to rescue them.
“Most likely they’re in work camps by now.”
An overview of Shadow that included Sheamathan’s stronghold made sense, but she had an uncomfortable feeling that her geology trip had just taken a dangerous detour.
The forest ended a few hundred yards ahead on the ridge of a rocky hilltop. As she and Raenihel trudged up the hill, the clicking sound she had noticed earlier grew louder, and she heard a sound like buzzing wings. With a growing sense of apprehension, she looked back. A few yards behind, black insects as large as her fist alternately crawled on jointed legs, and then spread their wings to fly, but they could only stay airborne for a foot or so, and then they fell back. Their crippled but determined effort to fly made her shudder. Their legs were too spindly for their thick bodies, and their wings were too small to bear their weight in flight. Two pairs of red eyes stared from their elongated heads topped by a pair of long, whip-like feelers. The clicking sound made sense now that she saw their powerful mandibles. She sucked in a horrified breath as hundreds of the grotesque insects surged from the underbrush. It was as if the creatures had followed her and Raenihel to the edge of the forest and wanted to make sure they left.
“Some of Sheamathan’s handiwork,” Raenihel said bitterly over his shoulder. “Come along.”
Only a twisted mind could create such repulsive creatures, she thought in disgust. These insects could barely crawl, much less fly.
She and Raenihel broke through the trees and walked out into the open. The air was fresher, with less odor of decay, and the silvery sky looked brighter outside the forest. They looked down over a grim wasteland.
“We’re going this way,” he said, indicating a steep, treacherous path that snaked down to the lowlands. “Go slowly and watch your step.”
That was good advice, she decided, because if she slipped, there was little to grab for support except stalks of prickly weeds, a few saplings, and scrub brush. She shrugged in resignation. If an elderly gnome could manage, she could. At least they were leaving behind the army of malformed insects.
Midway down she started to slide and caught frantically at whatever saplings and brush she could reach. Brush snapped, stones tumbled, and she slid several feet before skidding to a stop. Raenihel, as sure-footed as a mountain goat despite his age, looked over his shoulder, apparently deciding she was all right, and kept going. She should have given her knees time to heal before making this trip, she told herself as she started down the path again, but she hadn’t expected to be climbing down a ravine. Actually, except for the brush-burns, her knees felt pretty good. The path wasn’t as steep as they neared the bottom, and she made it the rest of the way without further mishaps.
Relieved to be on level ground, she looked around. Under the silvery night sky, the flatlands looked utterly bleak and depressing. An occasional dead tree stood with mournful limbs outstretched; otherwise the soil was bare except for scattered clumps of low, thorny bushes. Lagging a few steps behind, she stopped to examine one of the shrubs. Its yellowish-green, oval leaves had the same black blotches as the leaves in County Forest Park. Raenihel was right; this was a frightening demonstration of what could happen in her own world.
After about a mile they crossed a dry streambed and came to a series of hills covered in knee-high brown weeds. The air stank like spoiled meat. Lana broke off a few stalks and sniffed them, but they didn’t smell like much, so the weeds weren’t to blame. What could be making the unpleasant odor?
She discovered the hard way that the weeds hid a minefield of small, half-buried rocks. After tripping over a couple, she slowed, but it was impossible to avoid all of them. Many poked through the ground just high enough to throw her off balance. Following in Raenihel’s footsteps was no help, either. She stumbled over most of the same rocks he did. Muttering under her breath, she made her own path and forged through the weeds, staring at the ground.
They had walked five minutes, maybe ten—it was hard to tell since they were walking so slowly—when she looked up and noticed several gray boulders among the weeds. The smell in this area was even worse. She tried to breathe through her mouth, which helped a little.
Something crunched underfoot. Definitely not a rock. She stopped and looked down through the weeds, shivering as her eyes fell on the skeleton of an animal she didn’t recognize. What was this thing? It reminded her of a fox, but its head was large and flat with a snout like a pig. With any luck, she’d never run into a live one. She grimaced and reached for her flashlight to get a better look.
Nothing happened when she tried to turn on her flashlight, so she shook it, gave it a rap against her leg, and tried again. It still didn’t work. Rats! The batteries were almost new, so it shouldn’t go dead this soon. She’d have to make do with the flashlight app on her phone, and she’d better hurry before Raenihel got too far ahead. She pressed the power button. What? It didn’t work either? Great, just great. With a sigh, she jammed the phone and flashlight into her pocket and hurried to catch up.
For no reason she could explain, a knot of fear formed in her stomach as she watched Raenihel picking his way through the weeds, giving wide berth to the rocks.
How much farther to Shadowglade? What would Raenihel say if she insisted on turning back now? And how would she ever get home without him? The idea of being abandoned here, whether by accident or design, was too terrible to consider. Raenihel would never intentionally hurt her, she told herself, wishing she completely believed it. He wanted to keep the Fair Lands safe so her world wouldn’t suffer the destruction his had, and he wanted to rescue the captive gnomes. Both goals were compatible, weren’t they? She frowned. When he’d taken her along to search for Sheamathan’s wolfhound, as his ace in the hole in case the gnomes needed to be rescued, he’d put the gnomes’ welfare ahead of hers. Sure, he’d apologized later. But was he really sorry? Had he learned his lesson?
I’m much too trusting. Before, I could run away and go home, but now I can’t. What have I gotten myself into?
The strange forest with the mutant bugs didn’t seem so frightening now. She was better off there. At least it was near the portal and there were places to hide.
As if reading her mind and wanting to put her more at ease, Raenihel stopped and opened his pack. Taking out a wineskin and a pouch of food, he handed her the wineskin. “Have some fialazza.”
“Thanks,” she said, buoyed by the sight of refreshments. She took a long drink. A wave of new energy coursed through her, and the drink heightened all of her senses. She took another gulp, enjoying the rush of sensations, and then she wrinkled her nose, realizing that a keener sense of smell was the last thing she wanted right now.
Raenihel seemed more interested in food than drink. He poured nuts and seeds into his palm and then offered her some. She wolfed down a handful and nearly choked as something high overhead let out a shrieking cry. She scanned the sky and caught a glimpse of something huge and dark that soared like a bat, but then it disappeared in the silvery haze. Too stunned to speak, she glanced at Raenihel, expecting an explanation. He wolfed down more nuts, then stuffed the pouch and wineskin into
his backpack and said, “It would be best to keep moving.”
He has a gift for understatement. She hurried after him. If that thing saw us, it may be back. Maybe he thought if he acted nonchalant she wouldn’t worry. Instinctively she reached for her pouch, feeling the gemstones inside. She wanted to test their powers in Shadow, but not under pressure.
It was all she could do to keep up with Raenihel now, despite her longer stride. His sudden lack of concern about tripping over rocks told her all she needed to know. He was afraid, and if he was afraid, she should be, too.
Just as she was about to ask him to wait, he paused and turned to make sure she hadn’t fallen too far behind. He didn’t see the creature rise up behind the boulder, but he did see her eyes go wide. He looked behind him and gave a terrified gasp.
A few yards away, the serpentine creature wove slowly, studying them from behind the rock. Lana stood frozen. Any sound or movement might make it attack. Yellow eyes, in a broad, flat head as large as a human’s, watched them with an intelligent gleam. Its body was covered in a geometric pattern of dark green and gray scales.
Raenihel stumbled backward, snatching her close to him, and his grip on her arm was painful. Leaning close to her ear he whispered, “A pythanium.”
Her hearted thudded dully. “Wings? Do I see wings?” she whispered. Most of the creature’s body was behind the rock and she wasn’t anxious to see more of it.
Raenihel looked transfixed. “Yes, it has wings like a bat. Three sets.”
The instinct to run was overwhelming. She tried to wrench away, but Raenihel held her too tightly. “I wouldn’t make any sudden moves if I were you.” Reaching slowly over his shoulder, he slipped a hand into his leather pack, came out with a dagger and unsheathed it. Inlaid gemstones covered the hilt. Beautiful, yes, but the blade looked none too big to attack a creature this size.
“Stay here,” Raenihel ordered.
She nodded. Absolutely. She had no plans to go near that thing.