by Colin Taber
And then the cave filled with a deep and angry hiss.
The green light around them flickered.
Something was coming, if but still a fair distance away.
Anton started to step back, finding Matraia already running, heading blindly into the dark.
The Outleaguer moved to follow her but stopped himself, putting his hand out to grab at Sef. He gasped, “Come Sef, we must go – and quickly!”
Sef could feel it; they did have to go.
Now!
He watched Anton step away, trying to pull him along. Beyond them, Matraia was already gone. The sight of her disappearing into the dark reminded Sef that he had control of the light, but his muscles seemed to freeze up and his mind grew sluggish.
With every passing heartbeat he filled with a rising chill which emanated from the closing menace.
Anton dragged at him, as he hissed, “Sef, come!”
The big Flet groaned as he struggled to regain control of himself.
The Outleaguer jerked his friend back, while with his other hand he slapped him across the face.
The blow startled Sef and jarred him free of his lethargy. He knew his friends needed him – and now.
The big Flet fought to take back control, while Anton dragged at him. With a gasp, he shrugged off enough of the paralysis and began to move his legs and turn. “Let’s go!”
“Now, Sef!”
With his friend beginning to follow, Anton let go and focussed on escape.
With each step Sef took, he found it easier to move and think. He knew they couldn’t stand against what was now coming.
They had to go, and quickly!
As he began to move after his friends, he glanced back at the dark hole, which was no longer just a void of hungry shadow.
A flickering purple glow illuminated the rough stonewalls from deeper within the cave, something sourced from a guttering light of malevolence shining from afar, but growing nearer. Strangely, despite the deepening glow, Sef had never felt anything so cold, as if it stabbed at his eyes with ice.
He cried out as he turned and ran, taking his blessed light with him. Sword in hand, he charged into the darkness.
Each step he took away from that opening made him feel stronger, the realisation making him run faster.
As he ran, he could hear Anton and Matraia ahead.
Quickly, he caught up with Anton, whose form suddenly appeared from the dark as Sef and his blessed circle of light caught up with him. A score more steps later and they reached Matraia. Together, all with weapons out, all shaken, they sprinted up the road, trying to put as much distance as they could between themselves and whatever they’d stumbled upon.
-
They’d run for a long time, bathed only in Sef’s green light, but at the speed they went, they saw little of what was ahead of them until they were upon it. But they continued to move, fatigued and exhausted, dodging piles of rubble, cracks, fractures of the road and meandering arms of the stream. Increasingly, they began to trip and stumble, eventually falling, bruised and gasping. Yet they got up and continued, their hearts thumping and their lungs aching.
Finally, their run slowed into a stumbling jog, and then a staggering walk. Not long after, they collapsed by a wide pool of water where a large fall of rubble had partly dammed the stream across the road, before it overflowed to continue down the gentle slope.
-
They sat slumped by the water, exhausted, while Matraia wretched.
Eventually, they recovered their breathing and took some water while they stared back the way they’d come, searching for any sign of movement.
Finally, Sef whispered, “What in all the Pits was that?”
Anton shook his head, his mind spinning as his lungs burned. After a few more deep breaths, he managed to answer, “I’ve no idea, but it was diabolical.”
Sef nodded as he glanced at Matraia.
She was pale and desperately panting, moving little as she tried to recover from her sprint. Clearly, she wasn’t well, and the gash in her shoulder had torn open when she’d tripped on some rubble, leaving a dark trail of blood down her arm.
Watching her, Sef began to wonder if their panicked flight had undone much of the healing she’d enjoyed over the past few days. “Matraia, are you alright?”
She looked up, her eyes glassy, with drool running from her mouth. She wiped at her lips, shook her head a little to try and focus, and then answered in a weak whisper, “Yes, I’m drained, bashed and bruised, but I’ll recover.”
Looking at her, Sef wasn’t so certain.
Anton asked, “Matraia, what was that back there? We need to know so we can prepare.”
Carefully, she began to rise, trying to get back on her feet. As she did she said, “Come, let’s continue. We have to. As we move on, I’ll tell you what I know, but I’ll only be sharing rumour.”
Sef and Anton gave a nod and stood, adjusting their packs and starting to walk again.
After a short silence, as she made a point of walking through the water, trying to soak up its power, she began to speak. “There has been discussion of how the gargoyles have come to co-ordinate the rise of their swarms. Some have said they have a leader, others say an outside influence such as a controlling cultist or mage, but there has also been one other suggestion.”
She had Sef’s and Anton’s full attention.
“A year ago, one of our people claimed to have had a close escape from a powerful entity that lurked in the mountains. Most of my fellow Dagruan found the whole tale unbelievable.”
Apprehensive, knowing he was not going to like what he heard, Anton asked, “Matraia, put it bluntly?”
She nodded apologetically. “The gargoyles’ own god, finally awakened.”
The Outleaguer couldn’t help but turn to check behind them as they continued.
Sef asked her, “Do you believe it?”
She swallowed and said, “Before I wasn’t certain, but now...”
Anton and Sef both felt shivers race down their spines.
“I know it sounds like a terrible turn of events, but the gargoyles are also a new race, even if they seem so primal compared to how we might measure things. Perhaps it isn’t surprising that they might be shepherded by their own avatar.”
Sef recovered from his initial shock and frowned. “I suppose it is possible. After all, do not the Dagruan have Dorloth to protect them?”
Matraia could only agree.
Anton offered, “What I felt back there was unworldly and definitely strong. I could believe that was an awakened avatar.”
Sef looked over his shoulder, searching the dark behind them. “And here we are, trying to out run it. We need to get out of here, quickly. We’re doomed if we stay.”
Matraia agreed. “You’re right.” Her words then choked off as she began to cough.
“So what would you suggest we do?”
She took a deep breath and cleared her throat before answering, “For now we keep moving.”
“What about another blessing?” Anton asked.
“You mean from Juvela?”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“I don’t know what she can do for us from back in the Northcountry, but I suspect the thing she’d be most likely to bestow would be more protection.”
“That’s what she’s done before through your divine mark. She will be able to sense what we’re up against.”
“Yes.” Sef turned to Matraia and asked, “If that was an avatar, what are the common rumours you have heard about it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do they talk of an avatar that lurks under the mountain or one that can fly?”
“There has been talk of a gargoyle avatar for nearly a generation, although only one Dagruan has ever claimed to have sighted such a creature.”
Anton gently interrupted, “Or lived to talk of it?”
“There has also been talk of a vermin avatar, more so over the past few years. The idea has aris
en because they are now showing similar patterns of organisation as the gargoyles. Some Dagruan have assumed the same thing is happening to them, that an avatar is powering their rise and strengthening them. Of course, there are many more who disbelieve the whole idea.”
Sef offered, “Well, something was back there, and it was very strong.”
She nodded. “I’m inclined to agree with you, but there are others who say the vermin are just taking advantage of the rise of the gargoyles and living off their success.”
Anton shook his head. “There’s only one thing for now, and that’s to continue marching.”
-
Their walk continued, on and on, until their fears gave way to exhaustion, leaving them stumbling on their feet.
One by one they fell, only for their fellows, remembering the sinister presence lurking at their backs, to help drag them up and keep each other moving.
And so they continued.
Then came a time when two of them fell, Matraia taking down Anton with her as she stumbled over some rubble.
With heavy limbs, they tried to get back up, but Matraia lost consciousness.
Sef stood over them, rousing her with water from the stream and a few slaps to the face, eventually dragging both of them up.
And they continued.
But not for long.
Several more times they fell individually, or two at the same time. Every time it happened, they got up and continued, but each time they were slower.
Eventually though, they all fell and not one of them had the energy to get back up.
They lost consciousness.
They slumbered, surrounded by the green of Sef’s blessing and a rising tide of something else, a fresh gift from Juvela, as back in the Northcountry she again sent what she could to protect them. A by-product of her gift was to overwhelm her previous blessing, so as they fell deeper into sleep, Sef’s green light began to fade before finally winking out.
Chapter 15
-
The Road To Ba Er Kaan
-
The Northcountry.
The mountain road remained wide and mostly free of debris, but we eventually came to a bend that presented something more than time's wear.
In the late afternoon, we found a ramshackle wall built across the road, a haphazard barrier of roughly worked stone. The structure was crudely done, with a breach in the middle. When I passed through the gap, I found a series of stone-walled huts and caves in the mountainside behind it. I glanced in one, but did not enter. Inside I saw the rusted ruins of weapons, dried and rotted wood, and even bones.
The Prince was quiet beside me, the air somber.
I asked him, “What is this place?”
The Prince slowed, but did not stop. “A defensive line, one set up to stop the Heletian advance.”
I looked around at the scene.
The Prince walked on, ignoring the rise in the wind and its resultant wailing call. A trickle of gravel fell, tumbling down the slope like a thin run of water. The pebbles fell and bounced to the road as I walked past. I looked up, but could see nothing, and while the gravel didn’t seem to be a danger, I couldn't help but suspect it was being triggered by something more than the breeze. Finally, I stopped for a moment, my eyes searching the above slope.
The Prince turned back and called, “Keep going; there is no danger.”
I began to move, but the wind blustered, the wail rising to a scream. A large rock came tumbling down. It was fist-sized and large enough that if it had landed on my head from such a height, it would be lethal.
I said, “Something is up there.” And there was, I could feel it, even if I could not see it.
The Prince replied, drawing my gaze, “Grae ru.”
“What is it?”
“Only the dead.”
I turned back, briefly thinking I saw something – a wisp, a haze, a half-shadow of blue and white.
“Come, we must keep going.”
I began moving again, leaving the heights to wail after me.
-
On our first night on the cliff side road, we camped behind a large boulder that had come down long ago. While it was still a desolate and windswept place, the rock gave us some shelter. Not that the Prince, long dead, cared about the wind.
I built a small fire of dried wood and roots, the fuel collected from stunted shrubs that grew in the gutter along the way. The fire was for my own warmth and comfort.
I slept after eating a meal from my supplies, while the Prince was to keep watch, or so he told me, but I woke up late in the night to find him gone and the fire burning low.
Normally, I would have been scared by such a discovery, but I assumed he was nearby checking the road. At least, that was what I hoped
And then something happened to distract me from my meagre worries; but not here in the Northcountry.
Wrapped in my blanket by the guttering fire, I became aware of Sef’s plight. He had stumbled upon a powerful presence under the Varm Carga and was being overcome by a dark blessing of paralysis.
He was the one in need of help, not me.
I sent Sef a pulse of energy to break the terror-drenched paralysis that gripped his body and mind. Anton aided in that, as he had gone back for his dear friend, and both our efforts coincided, freeing up Sef to flee. For their escape, I then lent him, Anton and Matraia more strength, while behind them I filled the ancient tunnel with a darkness so thick even those who called it home would find it difficult to navigate.
Issuing blessings to them helped them in their flight and renewed their strength, but then I noticed something.
The link between Matraia’s soul and body was smouldering.
Her soul was young and not used to such power being gifted. While it was managing the power, the link to her body was becoming singed.
I had to stop my aid.
They ran on.
Wanting to still help them, I focussed on the tunnel they were in and brought down a wall of confusion in their wake, sending a pulse of energy to shatter the roof, letting rubble slump down and block the way.
They were safe, at least for now.
But the link between Matraia’s soul and body was looking as taxed as a candle left too close to a cooking fire.
I couldn’t aid her anymore, not in the ways I had been.
But she wasn’t the only one suffering.
My efforts were taxing, not that I didn’t have the power to share. The issue was how it stirred my deep hunger.
That reminded me of only one thing. The time was coming when I would need to feed again to gain some respite from the nagging aches and cramps that would only grow and deepen.
Chapter 16
-
The Light of Hope
-
The Varm Carga, the island of Kalraith.
Sef awoke in dim light, its essence soft and grey. For a moment he felt quite relaxed, even warm and comfortable, despite the fact he lay on the dust-covered roadway. But then, with a start, he remembered their predicament.
Anton spoke from nearby, his voice gentle and at ease, “Sef, it’s all right. We’re safe for now.”
“What happened?” Sef looked around as he sat up, his eyes locking on the light source a long way off, but delightfully plain. It seemed to be the exit of the tunnel. Beyond it he could see the grey of an overcast sky where it met the mottled tones of a snow-dusted mountainside. He wondered what it was. Had they finally reached the other end?
Anton said, “We all fell with exhaustion. I don’t know how long ago, but I suppose long enough to have missed sunrise.”
Sef turned to face his friend, who sat alongside Matraia a few paces away. The birdwoman lay next to the stream, with a hand in its flow. She was still asleep.
The big Flet said, “We need to get on; we’ll be safer outside.”
“You’re right. I also only awoke, but long enough ago to look around and find you two. I was further back when I fell.”
“And what have
you seen?”
“Matraia’s asleep, but very unwell. I think one of her wounds is going bad. In fact, I know it.”
Sef frowned to hear it, but he asked, “And our surrounds?”
“A cave-in has fallen behind us, so we can’t go back, even if we wanted to.”
Sef turned to peer into the darkness. Further down, dimly lit by the weak and stretched daylight, he could see the rubble of the fall. The foot of the collapse was already flooded by the stream, which was now dammed. “That’s a stroke of luck.”
“Too much so. I think it was more a gift from Juvela.”
Sef nodded, “So what for now?”
“I suspect those creatures will have another way around. In fact, it’s inevitable, so as you say, we must get on. I suggest for now we dig out some of our last scraps of dried meat to chew on when we start to walk. But first let us rouse Matraia and check her wound. She needs rest and better care than we can give, but we’re not safe here. I think all the blessings in the world might not be enough to heal all the hurts she has suffered, as they build up on top of one another and wear her body down.”
“She could not have got this far without the healing blessings, but even they are not enough. The power of the stream has been what has kept her with us, but the only thing I can see that has permanently healed on her is her lame wing.”
Anton agreed.
Sef turned back to the tunnel exit. “With daylight in sight, we must be close to where we need to be. At least I hope so. Once back in the heart of Kalraith and with her own people, she might yet get the care she needs.”
“For now let’s rouse her, check her wound, and get on our way. I ache to feel daylight.”
Matraia awoke easily, and though she rose, her limbs were stiff and she was clearly weak. They gave her some meat strips to chew on as Anton cleaned and tended her shoulder before rebinding the wound.
When they were ready to restart their trek, Sef took her pack, and they all turned together to put their backs to the heart of the mountain.
The tunnel opening was still a fair distance away, but the exit, distant and small, seemed clear. So, with upbeat steps, they got walking.