Myst pulled the sword out of the Zyn, gouging out a deeper wound as she did so. The beast turned upon her, but she already had the tip of her uncle’s sword aimed at its neck. She lunged at the wolf, but it moved its head too fast and was suddenly upon her, pushing her down. Myst could not hold the beast’s weight and fell. Her sword clattered away as the wolf beast pinned her down, its black claws pushing against her chest. She could not breathe as the full weight of the Zyn Beast came upon her, its dripping muzzle lowering inexorably toward her neck.
The creature was no longer smiling. It was hurt…badly. It knew it was dying and she knew it was going to kill her before it did so. It rose once more to its haunches, putting more pressure on her chest. The beast brought its teeth down, its maw open wide, ready to tear her throat open. Instead, it stopped a bit away, gasped suddenly, and then shuddered, falling off to Myst’s side. Hanging on its back was Tair, her two daggers imbedded deep into its spine. The beast let out one last choking breath and died, the light in its eyes dimming to darkness.
“Are you alright?” Tair asked, removing her daggers from the Zyn’s body.
Myst could only nod as she sat up, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “What about you?” she was finally able to manage.
Tair nodded as well. “I’m okay,” she responded, looking at her arms, “but I think I’m going to have to start wearing longer shirts.”
Myst let out a laugh despite herself and then slowly stood. She scanned the area, unable to see very far in the moonless night. “There will be more,” she muttered. “We’re not safe.”
“We can handle them,” Tair said with a wince, using the dead Zyn’s leather vest to clean off her daggers.
“We barely handled one,” Myst told her. “What if a pack of them happened upon us?”
“What do you want to do?”
Myst stared out to the west once more. “Let us move on,” she said. “We can be at Fhaalvak’s gates when the sun rises!”
Tair moaned her dissent, but quickly realized it was probably for the best. Besides, she thought, she doubted she would find sleep again this night. As Tair began packing their campsite, Myst used the dead wolf’s apparel to wipe her weapon down. She kicked the corpse once and grinned at the thought of crows and river bugs feasting on it for the next few days.
***
Baris tugged the collar of his long coat closer to his skin, annoyed at the cold night air. It was the coldest night of the season so far and he hoped that he would soon be returning to warmer climates once this deal was seen through. The Magi were not happy with his price and even less enthusiastic over the fact that House Diathanos was also bidding for the same prize. He felt no pity for them. He knew they had the gold – otherwise they would not be staying at the costly Fhaalvak Inn where he met them. For one moment during their meeting, Baris thought that the Fire Magi was going to burn him on the spot when he told them he would sell the diamond to the paladins if they offered more. The Diamond Magi attempted to appeal to Baris’s conscience and asked him to reveal the diamond for the safety of Fhaalvak. It was the Shadow Magi that understood the essence of the deal. Baris told the three to meet him at the river dock at high noon and left them sulking in their palatial dwelling.
Baris smiled as his benefactor’s plan began to become reality. The Magi and House Diathanos knew of one another and either party would kill to get that diamond.
He walked briskly from the north part of town, easily managing the uneven dirt road that wound through the darkness and quickly made his way toward the river dock. He passed a patrol of knights and waved to them in a friendly manner. Both nodded their heads, recognizing Baris as a regular visitor to the town. Many of the townsfolk knew Baris; knew that he often did business with the river traders of Kaalmoore and Vhaalia. Baris actually owned a few of the warehouses at the river dock and used them for his trading enterprise. He even paid his taxes on time.
What the townsfolk didn’t know was that Baris kept a full stock of empty crates and barrels in the warehouses, using them only as a smokescreen for his more lucrative and less legal activities. Labyrinthine paths filled with worthless crates kept more important items hidden. Items just like the Diamond of Val’Cryys.
Baris continued walking, noting the approaching sound of the churning lake that roiled underneath the river dock area. The hard packed earth that served as the main road through Fhaalvak suddenly became a rough cobblestone path that led directly to the wide gate that protected the town’s southern side. The air became sultry with the mist created by the frothing rivers, creating an almost constant fog that made the warehouses along the wall look sinister. The entire area had a menacing feel to it. Baris felt quite at home, however, as he thought of himself as one of the more dangerous things lurking in the misty dark.
Feeble globes of yellow candlelight came from glass lampposts at occasional corners. The iron-framed posts were rusted from years of sitting in the moisture-laden air and did very little to project any form of safety for those walking the river dock at night. Baris found it amusing that those who would think to find solace in the light did not realize that it only served to make the night even darker. He turned a corner and moved down a particularly tight corridor of closely packed warehouses. There were no lights here and the constant drumming of the rivers into the lake made it a perfect place for a stalker to reach its target.
And Baris knew someone was following him.
Producing a small ring of keys, he stopped near the middle of the long path at a plain looking door of reinforced iron. With a loud clank and a protesting screech, the door was unlocked and opened. Pausing briefly, he used a piece of flint and steel to light a glass lantern that was stationed on a table next to the door. Raising the lantern, he illuminated the wall of crates before him and closed the door, not bothering to lock it. He wanted to know how smart his stalker was. Would they come through the noisy door or would they find the unlatched shutter on the skylight that graced the slanted roof above?
With one hand on the lantern and the other on the hilt of his short sword, Baris made his way confidently through the maze of crates and barrels that filled his warehouse. The narrow pathway led to an open area in the heart of the building. A large rectangular table, surrounded by a few high-backed chairs sat in the gloom before him. Beyond the light of his lantern, he could see the other three entryways that circled the area, each one wound their way through the warehouse leading to other doors he could use.
Making sure nothing in the center had been disturbed; Baris knelt before the narrow opening, setting the lantern on the floor. He reached for a spherical object that lay at the center of the threshold. It was small, no bigger than his hand and was constructed of pure silver. Small indentations ringed the object and it sparkled with the faintest dusting of amethyst powder. Baris began to utter the enchantment that would disarm the magical trap, the same words used for each of the other three that protected the center of the warehouse. He paused, however, when he felt the stack of crates to his right shift very slightly.
His hunter was on top of the crates.
Baris slowly brought up his right knee to use for leverage and once more grasped the hilt of his blade. The moment he felt the stack of crates move, he dove and rolled to his left, bringing his sword to bear as he came to his feet in a crouched position. His stalker leapt into the entryway as Baris had hoped, triggering the magical device that erupted in a violet explosion of light. Thin webs of purple energy ensnared his hunter, trapping the cloaked figure and sending wave after wave of arcane power into the writhing form. The magical web held the intruder aloft for a few seconds until the trap’s energy was spent, allowing the figure to crash to the floor, unconscious.
The purple light faded away, leaving only the dim glow of his lantern to illuminate the area. Wrinkling his nose at the smell of burnt hair, Baris approached the unmoving figure, keeping his hand near his sword hilt. He gave a silent prayer of gratitude to the Amethyst Magi who sold him these spherical tr
inkets. Most of the snobbish magic users refused to sully their reputations by selling their crafts to those without the gift, but most Amethyst and Onyx Magi and some from the Ruby Order were quite keen to make a living selling magically enhanced items. They weren’t cheap, but Baris was quite pleased with his investment at the moment.
He reached the intruder whose body was entangled in a voluminous cloak of dark purple that only a Magi would wear. Baris figured as much. He had expected this for some time and was somewhat surprised that the famous Sajiix Mirhan had not found him sooner.
Using his blade, Baris lifted the thick fabric from the Magi’s face and was shocked to find the black-furred visage of a panther Zyn Beast. The creature’s eyes were closed, its pink tongue lolling out between white sharp fangs. Baris shook his head in wonderment as he recognized Lynth. He hadn’t seen the creature since the Theenian War, long before the Defender’s Guild was created. Baris knew he would garner dangerous attention when he took the diamond, but he didn’t expect the Zynnashan Highlord to send Lynth. If he was snooping around his warehouse, then it meant that the Zynnashans were closer than he expected.
It was of little importance to Baris. All he needed to do was collect the gold for the diamond and leave Fhaalvak. The paladins, Magi and Zynnashans could tear the city apart fighting over it. His loyalties lie only with the benefactor who was paying his fee. Baris looked down upon the injured Zyn Beast, wondering if he should just dump the creature into the churning waters below. After a moment’s thought, the mercenary shook his head, knowing full well that a live Zyn Beast, although hard to keep captive, was indefinitely more valuable to keep as a hostage.
***
Tair was exhausted. She and Myst had jogged the light boat the remaining mile to the tributary in the dark. The mud had pulled at her boots and the damp had soaked her feet. Her arms hurt from the Zyn attack. She kept quiet about it though. Tair knew Myst was riding a thin line with her temper and she had no desire to see it turned against her. The fear of running into any more of those Zyn wolves kept her adrenaline going until they reached the sluggish waterway. Tair had no idea how tired she was until they were well away from the riverbank, paddling southeastward.
Myst had said nothing to her, taking her position at the rear of the narrow craft. Her lack of conversation was beginning to worry Tair. It was not like her friend to keep silent for so long – unless it was Tair she was angry with. Her uncle’s death had changed her. She could only hope that getting this diamond would snap her back to the Myst she knew and loved.
Tair struggled on with the paddling. All around her was darkness, the river an inky ribbon winding between walls of black trees, their nearly skeletal limbs reaching out to touch the starry sky. The blue crescent moon gave little light, allowing Tair to marvel at the thousands of stars above. She had heard as a child that people saw pictures in the night sky, but those were from children who had parents that cared enough to show them. Sometimes Tair liked to make up her own pictures, drawing invisible lines between the stars to give them names of her own. She pulled her small oar in for just a moment, gazing above and recalling the pictures she created as a child. She could hear Myst’s powerful strokes and the gentle splash of the water. The boat rocked rhythmically, lulling her into a peaceful state.
Tair awoke suddenly to Myst screaming her name. She was rocking the boat back and forth at the same time in the attempt to wake her up. The sky to her left was pink and orange with the coming of dawn. Further down the waterway, the tributary began to narrow. A long stone wall emerged from the trees, its smooth, gray surface nearly touching the river’s edge. They were moving fast along the surface, the current keeping them in the center of the water. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear a low rumbling sound as though a thunderstorm were approaching.
“Tair, wake up!”
She turned to Myst who was furiously paddling to get them to the east side of the river. The current, however, was fighting her. “I’m awake,” she mumbled.
“Get your oar in the water, quick! Paddle to the left, we have to get out of the river!”
This was not anger Myst had in her voice. It was fear.
The rumbling sound increased the further they glided down river and Tair had a sudden and frightening image of a waterfall suddenly dropping them hundreds of feet down to bone-breaking rocks below. Tair did not recall a waterfall being here during her childhood visit, but she did remember something about the lake being dangerous. Either way, she and Myst were in a boat heading straight for it.
She dug into the water, using fear-pumped adrenaline to edge them slightly closer to the eastern bank. They were passing the high wall now as it followed them down the river. She could see a few figures walking along it, but they showed no reaction to their plight. Instead of screaming for help, Tair just paddled harder. The river, unfortunately, would not let them go. The tributary tightened further and the current increased, dragging the small boat back to the center of its now churning waters. Despite their efforts, the boat began to turn sideways. Tair had a panicked thought of diving into the water to try to swim to the edge, but she knew the current would only drag her down into the river’s gray depths.
The rumbling became a continuous roar of crashing water. The trees and the wall gave way to outcroppings of natural rock. Tair could see the river’s end as it opened out into a maelstrom of churning white and gray water, its large waves would easily crack their small boat in half. The roiling currents would push their bodies into the icy darkness below, holding them until their lungs burst and filled with water.
Myst screamed something to her, but Tair could not hear her over the bellowing of the oncoming lake. She was pointing to the eastern shore, but it was hard to tell as the currents were now slowly spinning the boat. Myst gestured toward the town where the wall had now disappeared, leaving a flat area filled with low building and various boats. For a moment, Tair wondered why those boats were able to stand still.
Three figures stood on a low wall, waving to them. One of them, a giant of a man, was gesturing with a thick coil of rope. Tair’s survival instinct snapped her out of the shock that threatened to overwhelm her. “Try to keep us level with them!” Tair shouted, not looking back at her friend. She pushed her oar into the water, trying to keep the boat from turning. The large man saw that she understood and began to twirl the rope over his head. Tair shook her own head, knowing that they would have only one chance at this.
The man released the rope, throwing it further downstream to time Tair’s catch. She nearly fell out of the boat as she caught it, losing her oar to the water. Her cold, numb hands frantically tried to tie the end of the thick rope to a strut. If she didn’t hurry, she knew she would be yanked out of the craft. She tugged on the rope, fastening it through the strut loop and waved to the man still holding the other end.
“Hang on!!” she yelled.
The boat jerked to a stop, throwing Tair into the bow face first. She tore her lip, tasting blood in her mouth, but she didn’t care. Somehow, the three men were slowly pulling the craft toward shore. Tair could hear the strut creaking from the strain and held onto the edge of the rope in case it snapped. The boat’s stern swung toward the lake, waving back and forth in the river’s powerful current as though it did not want to let them go, but the three men still pulled, dragging them inexorably toward the shore.
Tair could now see that the men were standing on a low wall that kept the boats safe from the river’s influence. Of their rescuers, she could see they were not soldiers or guards. One wore a cloak with its hood pulled low, another wore a long coat of leather and was bearded, and the third was the giant with a stripe of thick black hair on the center of his otherwise shaved head. All of them struggled to pull the boat towards them, but Tair could see the trunk-like arms of the big man doing most of the work. Eventually, they pulled them close enough so that the bearded one was able to extend a helping hand.
Tair looked up into the sparkling brown eyes and clean white
smile of their hero. She took his hand and he yanked her up with ease. Her booted feet touched smooth stone and she gave a quick sigh of thanks to whatever god was watching over them. She leaned over and opened her arms for Myst to throw their packs, which she did. As she dropped them to the side, the bearded man helped Myst out of the boat.
“Your route, although fast, carries quite a bit of danger,” the cloaked one said.
The giant let go of the rope and the boat Tair and Myst had taken from Joram’s Bend sped away and disappeared over the rim of the river; swallowed by the lake. “I hope you did not want boat,” the man said apologetically.
Myst waved it away. She was bent over, her hands on her knees, taking in deep breaths.
“Are you two alright?” the bearded one asked with genuine concern. “I’m afraid I don’t have any towels in my gear…although, I would hate to cover up such beauty.”
Tair’s eyes sharpened at the glib remark he made and noticed he made it the moment Myst stood up straight. Her shirt was open a bit further than normal and was soaking wet, exposing everyone to what she was born with. Tair gave a disgusted snort, but Myst seemed to just ignore him.
“Not that it is any of our business, but, may I ask what you two were doing traveling such a dangerous waterway?” the cloaked one asked.
“I don’t normally indulge such information to a stranger,” Myst answered coldly.
“Yes, of course,” he bowed and removed his hood. “I am Tienn Draanyr. My companions are Ayce Lyganthaar and Dorn of the Ice Cliff Tribe.”
Myst and Tair both took a step back at Tienn’s appearance. Tair marveled at how the man’s long, snow white hair highlighted his mauve skin. His face was angular, his nose sharp. His eyes looked damaged – as if he was blind, but he seemed to be able to see quite well with the ghastly white orbs that now examined them both. Although the look of his eyes frightened her, they only watched with a wistful sadness, as though he were accustomed to seeing such reactions.
Rage of the Diamond's Eye (The Guildsmen Series Book 1) Page 28