Pure of Heart (the New Age Saga Book 2)

by Timothy A. Ray

  III

  They found a trail not an hour after their trek through the jungle began. Which was fortunate because without the sun to guide them, Tristan was sure that they were going in circles. Either that or all the trees had the same twisted structure which made going forward that much worse. There were no birds, no signs of wild life, and even Tuskar seemed wary of the forest around them.

  Finding the trail should have been a good sign, but upon entering it, it changed into something far worse. Items hung sporadically from the trees along their route and his eyes kept getting drawn their way whenever they drew close.

  “Totems,” Merlin informed them as they paused to inspect one. The object hanging above them on his left was circular and with disgust, he noticed it was made up of bones. Whether human or animal, the sight of it only intensified his uneasiness. Five bones extended towards the center where the ends were tied together. Hanging off the sides were black feathers and perched on the top was a small skull, probably a bird’s. As much as he hoped that those were animal bones, some appeared too large to be anything other than a large bear or wolf. And he had no inkling that either had ever stepped a foot within this darkened interior.

  “They’re warding us off,” Melissa whispered to the mage, yet to what end? They all heard her.

  “Who’s warding us off?” Willow pursued; stepping forward to get a closer look at the sinister object.

  Merlin only shook his head. “Hopefully we don’t find out.”

  “Not like that’s going to happen. If there is any possibility of trouble, we’ll walk straight into it, it never just passes us by,” Reyna snapped.

  Kore had his axe in hand and as he looked up at the trees, his tusks worked nervously; his body tense. If something made the orc nervous, then there was definitely something to worry about. “Kore no like forest,” the big guy muttered, as if hearing his unspoken thoughts.

  “I hear that,” he mumbled in agreement. Willow had drawn her weapon and as they began proceeding forward once more, stayed just ahead of him, as if she were protecting him. “I’m fine,” he sneered, not meaning to sound so pissed but unable to help it.

  “I’ll believe that when I can touch you without you freaking out,” she snapped back.

  He sighed.

  There was no point in arguing, it would only cause a scene. She had Kore in front of her and Reyna was behind him, so it really didn’t matter who was walking where. “Feels like the trees have eyes,” he groaned, feeling a tingling slide up the back of his neck.

  A loud screeching pierced the air and the entire party stopped and held their weapons ready, eyes scanning the forest. It was coming from all around them and Kore nearly threw Willow to the ground as he stumbled backwards, eyes following something in the trees. Tristan caught her easily and the mage rushed to their side.

  “We’re not that far off now. Whatever happens, the two of you keep going and finish what we’ve come here to do. Promise me, no matter what, you two don’t stop for anything,” Merlin pushed, unslinging Richter and handing it over to Willow. She reluctantly threw it over her shoulder, giving Tristan a wide-eyed look in the process.

  “We promise,” she managed, and the mage gave them one last hard glance, then rushed back towards the front of the group.

  The mage’s voice carried back their way, signaling to keep going despite the piercing shrieks. The further they went, the stronger it got. Kore’s eyes were twitching and the grip on his axe tightened. Tristan spared a look to the rear at Reyna and Kylee, but both were looking to either side, scanning the forest beyond for threats, weapons held ready.

  Hands suddenly gripped his ankles and with a yelp he felt himself pulled downward. Moments later his lungs were filling with dirt, his hands reaching through the soil, then dragging along above him. The armor he wore gave him a small pocket of air, but it was fast running out with his rapid breathing. Hands were pulling him on all sides now and he was forced to close his eyes to keep the dirt from tearing his eyeballs out. The lack of oxygen was making his head swim; his lungs were on fire. He couldn’t scream and as his vision began to fade, he wondered if the ghosts that haunted these woods were dragging him to hell and what would be waiting for him when he got there.

  Chapter 15

  Buried Alive

  I

  John was shaken awake by the hands of his wife and he felt her hot breath in his ear beckoning him to open his eyes. Struggling to rise from the depths he had fallen; he moaned when he noticed it was still dark and turned to his very pregnant wife.

  “John, wake up, it’s time,” the hoarse breath of his wife whispered again.

  He snapped full awake, eyes wide, sitting up in a flash. “Right now?”

  Jenna’s hands were holding the sides of her pulsing stomach. “The sooner the better,” she grunted, her eyes reflecting the sudden burst of pain she was experiencing.

  Jumping to his feet, he came around the bed and opened the door. Two Guardians stood guard and he quickly ordered one of them to fetch the mid-wife.

  The door to one of the adjoining rooms opened and Aaron stood there with an arm across his face, wiping the sleep away as he yawned. “Dad, what is it?”

  “You’re about to be a big brother kiddo,” he smiled at his son. Despite everything that had happened, this moment filled him with enough joy that it quickly pushed the last two weeks away and freed him to enjoy himself; even if it was only a temporarily reprieve.

  “John, they need to hurry!” his wife screamed from the bed and he looked frantically down the hall to see if the Guardian had returned yet.

  He went back to his wife and pulled a chair next to her side of the bed. Her hand flew out and seized his and he flinched. He had been hoping to avoid that part this time. “They’re coming, just breathe.”

  “You just breathe!” Jenna snapped at him and squeezed his hand. If he had been a lesser man it might have broken every bone in his throbbing palm, yet he squeezed back to try and lessen the choke hold she had on him.

  He grunted. “Babe, that’s my shield hand.”

  “You can strap it to your arm! Are you going to cry like a baby? Oh, that’s good, I can raise three kids all at once instead of just two!” she growled as she squeezed harder, her mouth open in a soundless scream.

  He put a hand on her forehead and slowly stroked his fingers across her sweaty skin. “I’ll deal with it,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Oh, how big of you. Want to switch places? I’d like to see what you’d look like squeezing a boulder out your ass!” she roared as another contraction hit.

  He ignored her. “I love you,” he told her softly, continuing to stroke her forehead. His arm was numb up to his elbow and he was once again astonished by the strength of the elves, especially of their women. It took a strong man to admit his wife could probably kick his ass if she tried.

  Her body tensed, then relaxed, then she would turn to the side and screamed so loudly his ears had begun ringing. He didn’t know how long it went on, or what was taking them so long, but his whole shoulder was starting to ache and her forehead was coated in sweat.

  “Oh baby, I’m sorry,” Jenna breathed in short grasps. “I love you too. Where the hell are the clerics?” Her voice raised in a squeal, amplified by the walls until it rang in his ear drums.

  The door opened and two figures emerged from the shadows.

  A white robed cleric came to Jenna’s other side and he lay a hand on her stomach. He began muttering something, but John couldn’t hear it over Jenna’s ragged breaths. Slowly, her breathing slowed and her head was thrown back, her eyes staring at the ceiling with relief.

  “Oh, thank the Gods,” she groaned with pleasure. “If I ever tell you that I don’t want any magic used near me, you have the right to knock me upside the head.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiled back, happy to have at least some of the pressure off his hand; allowing the blood to slowly flow again.

  The other figure was an older wo
man, the same mid-wife that had not only helped Jenna with Aaron, but had also been there when he and his brother were born. “You need to push, Honey.”

  “No shit!” Jenna cursed. She bore down, her face strained with the effort and John’s hand once again screamed in agony. His wife was a proper, educated, gentle soul who prided herself on having a respectful, well-mannered tone. So, it was striking to see such a feral look upon her face, the words flying from her mouth so out of character, that it felt truly alien to experience it.

  “Mommy said a bad word,” Aaron suddenly said by his side.

  He hadn’t even known he was there. “Hey kiddo, why not go play in your room for a bit, I’ll come get you when it’s over, okay?”

  Aaron silently retreated and John’s heart ached at how innocent his son was. He reflected for a moment on the world his children were being born into and wanted to protect them the best he could from it. But he feared it wouldn’t be enough and that their innocence would soon be lost.

  He lost track of time again, the squeezing, screaming, pushing, and rapid breathing becoming so rhythmic that it was hard for him to stay completely focused. But he was snapped from his thoughts by another squeeze of his hand and a shrill squealing from between his lover’s thighs.

  His wife was drenched in sweat; her eyes glazing as the cleric worked his magic once more to relieve the stress from her body. “Oh, let’s not do that again anytime soon, okay?” she mumbled, glancing towards the mid-wife.

  The woman had wrapped the newborn in a blanket after snipping the lifeline between child and mother. Moving quickly towards John, she held up the slightly bloody child up to her father to hold. “Congratulations, it’s a girl.”

  He felt the tears begin to flow. A little girl. He looked down upon her beautiful angelic face and the slight point of her ears and grinned like a complete fool. She had soft whitish hair and her mouth opened to cry out against the world for ripping her from her mother.

  He leaned over and placed his daughter in her mother’s awaiting arms. He kissed Jenna’s forehead, his throbbing finger sliding in the small palm gripping the air. “She’s so beautiful. Just like her mother.”

  “Flattery got us here, let’s hold off on that for a bit, okay?” Jenna teased, then chuckled when the baby cooed at her. “That’s right Honey, Mommy loves you. And I love you,” she offered; leaning his way and giving him a quick kiss.

  “Whatever are we going to name her? I’d only picked out…,” he began.

  “Boy’s names, right? Shocker,” Jenna rolled her eyes. She rocked the newborn baby as the mid-wife and cleric slowly departed their chambers.

  Aaron came charging in and jumped on the bed. Jenna winced, but didn’t snap at the boy, who was just excited to meet his new sister. “What’s her name, Mommy?”

  Jenna looked into his eyes and said softly “Constance.”

  His heart melted and he kissed his wife fully on the lips. Then he couldn’t help but chuckle with joy. Princess Constance of Lancaster, if only his father and brother were here to meet his newborn daughter.

  “It’s perfect,” he told her with a smile. “Thank you.”

  II

  Tristan moaned as he slowly rose from the depths of darkness to the world around him once more. Upon opening his eyes, he thought that he might still be sleeping or he was completely blind, as not even the slightest bit of light illuminated the area around him. He smelled dank Earth and felt grains of it fall against his face. He heard someone next to him and recognized the familiar groan of his fiancé echoing around him.

  “Willow,” he whispered, trying to get her to stir. The air was thin and his lungs were hurting from the constant strain to get oxygen. Wherever they were, there wasn’t any air getting through to them.

  “Tristan? Where are we?” he heard her soft voice float towards him in the darkness and he reached out experimentally and felt for her. She wasn’t too far as he only had to lean a bit to reach her and he sighed with relief that whatever was going on, they were together.

  He was about to shake his head, but she wouldn’t see that. “I don’t know, I can’t see anything, can you?”

  Elves tended to have better vision than humans, so it wasn’t a stretched to think she might see something he had missed, but she only moaned no in response. Then she muttered something under her breath and light blue light sprang into existence around them. She was laying on her side, the large weapon on her back digging into the dirt below her. Her mother’s amulet was raised slightly over her head and the blue gem at its center was pulsing with light.

  They were in a small rectangular box, every surface comprised of dirt. There appeared to be no windows, no doors, and he had a sinking feeling that the only air they had was what had been trapped in here with them. That was not good. If they didn’t get out, they’d suffocate. By the throbbing in his skull, that wouldn’t be too long from now.

  “Do you remember how we got in here?” he asked her, reaching with his hands to probe the walls for any give or sign of a way out.

  She shook her head. “Something grabbed my legs and pulled me down; then I blacked out.”

  It was exactly what had happened to him. Yet, they were the only ones down here. Where were the others?

  “Can you use your magic to find a way out?” he asked, not feeling hopeful but not ready to give up just yet. This could not be how it ended for them, not after everything they’d been through.

  “I’ll try,” she replied softly. The air was growing thinner and they were running out of time. Why had someone gone through the effort of putting them there, just to let them die? It made no sense.

  She spoke softly and he could feel the air around them grow denser. He looked for any signs of change, but there was nothing. A few moments passed, and she let out a held breath, eyes searching his. “There’s a passage behind that wall behind you, but I don’t know how to get to it.”

  He turned and started to push against the solid dirt wall. Nothing would give. How could they get out of here? He had to think, time was slipping with every breath he took. “We have to find a way through the wall.”

  Their eyes met, then both of them looked to the wooden sword still strapped to Willow’s side. Could they possibly?

  He was about to ask for it when her hand reached down and drew the Sword of Madera from its sheathe. Coming to his side, she placed the tip of the blade against the wall of dirt and both of them smiled when it began to ripple outward in waves. Reaching out, he felt his hand enter the wall as if being pushed through a pool of water.

  “I think we’re good. Let’s go before we’re out of air,” he whispered.

  “No argument there,” Willow replied, wrapping her arm around him tightly and pulling him with her as they plunged through the dirt wall.

  He held his breath, but his lungs were aching so bad that they wanted to just burst and suck the watery dirt in. He fought it, lights tingling in front of his eyes as they quickly made their way forward. Suddenly they were free and he stumbled forward, falling to one knee and dragging Willow after him. When the sword broke contact with the wall, it solidified once more and the tip of his right food got stuck in the dirt. Angrily he yanked it free and looked around, Willow’s amulet still giving them a soft light to see by.

  She didn’t sheathe her sword, but held it out before her, ready to defend herself if she had too. They both had their armor on and when their captors found out that they had escaped, they’d realize their error in leaving them with their weapons.

  The air was musty and not much stronger than it had been in that box of death; however, it was enough to clear his head and allow him to think straight once more. They were in a tunnel and it was a good thing he stumbled, because it barely came to their waist. Had the roof gone solid with their upper bodies still trapped, well, he wouldn’t think of what might have happened.

  “I don’t suppose you can do that flying thing that Merlin did with me on Saspe’s Peak, huh?” he whispered, not sure where
their captors were and not wanting to gain attention.

  She shook her head, eyes peering down the left passage. “Even if I could, we don’t know how far we are below the surface and we might drown in the attempt. Let’s go that way, I see a hint of light in the distance,” she finished, nodding towards the tunnel’s path.

  “I don’t see anything,” he croaked, his brain feeling sluggish as it tried to regain what it had loss.

  “Trust me,” she returned and squeezed his hand.

  “I always will,” he replied as he leaned forward and kissed her cheek, wanting to make sure she knew how much he loved her in case this went south before he had the chance.

  They slowly began to creep forward, his back straining from being bent the way it was and his knees threatening to buckle beneath his weight. He drew Dragonslayer from his left side and held it before him, wondering where his shield had gotten off too. Maybe it’d been left stuck in the dirt above when he had been yanked through the earth. Well, it was just a shield, at least they still had the swords. Had they been lost—

  She was right, there was a bit of light ahead and he quickly motioned for her to kill the magic flowing from her amulet. If there was light, there might be someone at the other end of it and they didn’t need to draw attention to themselves before knowing what they were dealing with.

  They plunged into darkness with only a small pinprick of illumination ahead to guide by.

  As they drew closer, a horrible aroma began drifting their way. His nose drew up in disgust and when he glanced at Willow, he saw that the feeling was mutual. He tried to bury his nose against part of his cloak, but it was beginning to permeate everything, and it didn’t help at all to try and mask his incoming breath. Breathing through only his mouth made him want to gag even more.