by Tom Rogal
Condarin kept repeating while she cried, “They are real. They are real.”
Sadly, it appeared they were. Just when he thought things couldn’t get worse, they did. Flesh and blood had replaced the image of the nightmare. They were no longer myth. The Garchai were real.
5
“What are we going to do? Where is he taking us?”
Gerran answered Joakon’s questions, “Not to give us a warm welcome, that’s all I know. You remember the heads.”
It seemed like hours even though it had only been ten minutes since the Garchai detached the net and slung it over its hairy back. Except for its loud breathing, it was relatively quiet while moving for one its size. Even the footprints were soft and barely audible. That almost explained how it was able to sneak up on them . . . almost.
Hanging from the creature’s side was a large mace. It had six blades protruding from the center and looked well-made. Something was odd about the whole nature of these things. They weren’t normal giants. Neeza had seen giants before way up on a continent to the northwest on one of his secret missions, but their weapons were normally tree trunks whittled down to make it a club. To make these weapons and especially at this size, craftsmanship was a must.
Vindar responded, “I’m sure Neeza has something up his sleeve. Isn’t that right? You must have been prepared for something like this.”
“If by prepared, you mean I have a plan to escape a magic resistant net against a foe I never thought existed, then . . . no.”
He hated to sound so defeated, but there was nothing they could do while entrenched by the net. Not even Dyenarus would be able to use her illusions while they were trapped in there. The only spells that he could think of that wouldn’t be blocked were the spells of the gods, but this was hardly a time to use such a spell, if there ever was such a time. Not only was he sure that it would kill him casting it, but he was also pretty certain it would kill the rest of his party along with the Garchai. The spells of the gods didn’t show any favor toward anyone. His former Myyrilian leader had given him that wisdom the moment he was taught the powerful spells. Another solution would present itself; he was certain . . . and hoped.
A peculiar scent began to fill the air. They all smelled it. It was more pleasant than their captor who stunk of dirt and sweat, but they all began to understand where they were finally being taken.
Vindar commented, “Guys, not to alarm you, but I think we’re meant to be the main course.”
Biverin, knowing a thing about cooking, added, “Yeah, little too late for that. I could smell the spices a few miles ago. One thing I know about rations, we’re a lot for just one. There must be more.”
No one had thought about that until then (or at least would admit to it), but he was exactly right as they neared the makeshift camp. Neeza could see at least two more from his vantage point. That was going to complicate any escape plans. Getting away from one was going to be hard enough. Getting away from three . . . that was going to be nigh impossible.
From what he could see, they were much like their captor. Their eyes hidden by their helmet and all the other gruesome features of their skin and armor. The one on the left was missing a pauldron evident by its bare shoulder while the one on the right had much more body hair than the other two. The original Garchai finally dropped them hard to the ground as it neared the edges of the camp, going over to converse with its friends. This might be the chance they were waiting for.
Neeza whispered, “Okay, let’s see if we can get out.”
The younger mages all went toward the only exit. He started to, but he was distracted when he heard the creatures speak. It was broken and their voices deep, but there was a dialect that he could have sworn he was familiar with. None of it made any sense. Where had he heard it before?
“Neeza!”
He turned to see Dyenarus standing by him, “We can’t climb out or get it open. The ends are sticking to each other like paste. Either the magic on this thing is that powerful or they are just that strong.”
She seemed to be right on both ends. He could feel a strong magnetism coming from the ends, holding the two together with a force the mages wouldn’t be able to break even if they were outside it.
Condarin asked, “This is how it’s going to end for us, huh?”
Neeza and the others looked at her, seeing she was losing hope fast. The mage leader walked to her and put his hands on her shoulders. The touch was surprising, causing her to gaze upon his face.
“I promised all of you I would do everything I could to ensure we all went home. That hasn’t changed. We will get out of here, or I will die trying. Never lose hope. You have great potential, but you let your fears consume you. Let go of them and you will continue toward being a great mage of White Magic.”
Condarin held her tears as she nodded. Not the strong answer he was hoping for, but it would have to do. Their captor began to walk toward them again.
Biverin commented, “You know, if it wasn’t us going in the pot, I would say it smells good. Amazing how they seem to know how to cook like a normal person would.”
That was one of many things he was finding amazing about them. If they didn’t think of something fast, all this new learning would mean nothing. He turned toward Haldirin as the Garchai dragged them closer toward the pot.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Haldirin answered, “I think so. The only realistic chance for us to escape is in the pot. The net might be magical, but the pot is not. Risky because we would be cooking alive, but it might be our only window of opportunity.”
Neeza agreed. It wasn't the best of plans, but it was all he could figure that might work. It was going to take more luck than anything to get out of here. Luck, unfortunately, hadn’t been on their side lately. One of the Garchai finally tugged hard at the net, releasing the opening. Neeza thought about moving, but another of the Garchai moved its head into their view. As he inhaled deeply, he unleashed a heavy breath on the mages. By the gods! The smell was awful!
“By the Holy Staff of Gadic-Va, don’t these things believe in hygiene?” commented Vindar.
Somehow, he didn’t think the Myyrilian god of water and cleanliness applied to these creatures. The Garchai began sniffing around, chatting with his other two companions. He felt some confusion between them. Almost like they didn’t know what they captured. He couldn’t understand why. Mages looked similar to humans, but were much different as anyone with a sense at detecting magic could attest. Then again, the eyes of these creatures were covered, so that wouldn’t have mattered. They must track off of smell.
After the Garchai were finished arguing, all three looked down, their noses busy at work. If only he could get a fireball off, he might be able to knock off all three at the same time. But as long as he was in the net, that was wishful thinking. Finally, one of them reached down toward them. Haldirin was doing his best to be the one they grabbed first to protect the children as well as his boss, but Neeza at the last second pushed him out of the way.
“Neeza!”
The Garchai picked him up by his robes, lifting him with two fingers. He was tempted to start casting his strongest spells and pray that it would kill them, but instinct took over. He remained still as the Garchai brought him toward where his eyes would be. He had a stare down with the creature’s helmet for what seemed like forever. It once again lifted its mouth up and breathed on Neeza, sniffing the air right after. Hold true, Neeza, my boy, he told himself. It was almost time to act, but not yet.
The Garchai growled and spoke in its undetermined language, frustrated. On various sides of the camp, three explosions occurred. The Garchai holding Neeza dropped him, and he hit the ground hard. The way he landed, though, from the dark he could see fireballs coming all toward the camp. The three Garchai were confused and alarmed. After the third volley, which nearly landed by their feet, they began to scatter into the forest.
As the figure stepped into the light, a smile grew on
his face.
“We are glad to see you!”
Lindaris hurried and helped Neeza up, “Same here. We must make haste. They don’t seem like the type that stays scared for too long.”
He was right. They had to get out of there and make for the coast in a hurry. There was no telling how many more they would return with when they did. Neeza found a thick trunk and telekinetically put it into the net. He held on to a piece that was just above the magic-resistance’s range. The students grabbed on as he brought them up. They instantly walked up to him, relieved and overjoyed.
Gerran said, “Great work! Where did you go?”
Lindaris explained, “I saw that one coming toward you guys. I knew I couldn’t get you out while you were in the net, so I followed you here and waited at least until one of you were out.”
“I guess I was wrong about you deserting us. I'm sorry. Is that my bag?”
Ah, the person he wanted to see. He proudly brought Dyenarus’ bag in front of him and handed it to her genuflecting slightly.
“Of course, my lady. I saw you left it and retrieved it just because it was yours.”
She grabbed it and again thanked him before turning around and joining the rest. Not how he envisioned it at all. He was hoping at least for a kiss or a heart-felt appreciation. He didn’t even get that definitive look that women tended to do when they were interested. All he got was a simple thank you. Maybe she was just playing hard to get or she didn’t want to put her emotions out there in public. He would ask her later.
Once everyone was safely out of the net, Neeza turned to the group, “Okay, we should get away from here and head over to a secure place, make camp for the night. We will have watches throughout the night to be sure that they don’t sneak up on us again. Tomorrow we will head west and make for the coast.”
The students didn’t ask any questions, just followed Gerran west. He had hoped that going north would lead them to the easier shores, but the further north they went, the more trouble they ran into. He prayed the coast would be better luck for them. They had to hurry too. If they didn’t contact Mimerck soon, he might think them lost and leave them there. Especially with the Garchai, he didn’t want to risk communicating so far inland because he wasn’t sure what else they were capable of. They would reach the coast within a day, then it would be time to start finding a route going toward the reason they were here: Mount Hrithgorn.
--------------------------
The height of nightfall came an hour after they made camp. They ate dry rations as Neeza didn’t want a fire going. Their enemy was robbed of sight, but their sense of smell seemed to be what they relied on for tracking. The smoke of a flame would make them that much easier to detect. Thankfully it was a warm night, so there were no complaints. Neeza and Haldirin had the first shift, which was nearing its end. Dyenarus and Lindaris had the second shift. Vindar and Condarin would have the final shift before they would continue moving.
Neeza gave a yawn as he was glad his turn was ending. The first few hours were very stressful, strange noises being heard from the Kyroselips and what sounded like wolves. He really didn’t want to find out what the wolves could do. He had enough of the wildlife and locals on this trip.
Dyenarus finally stepped up, giving a strong yawn herself, “Time for you two to get some shut eye. Lindaris and I have got this.”
Neeza nodded while Haldirin responded, “Thank you. Most of the activity sounds like its coming from the east, so I would keep your attention to the other directions. Neeza and I concluded the creatures here are smarter than they should be.”
She nodded as she replaced Neeza, who went to lie down next to Biverin. He decided to stay by him to make sure he was okay. The farmer mage had been shivering all night despite the warmth. He began to suspect that his lung might have been punctured, even if just slightly. It only gave him more inspiration to finish this quest with more haste than ever. As he lay down, it was obvious he wasn’t the only one still up not on watch.
“Getting your break in, sir?” Biverin asked.
Neeza replied, “Yes. Much needed. You need some rest as well.”
Biverin laughed and said, “This is the most alive I’ve felt in years. Sleep can wait. Will do enough of it when I am rotting in the ground.”
Neeza wasn’t sure how to respond to that last statement. Did he perhaps feel the injury he suffered was worse? In this place, he was the only gauge they had if there was a problem.
Biverin continued, “In case I never get the chance again, I wanted to thank you for letting me come with you. I know I wasn’t meant to hear the conversation about this journey, so you didn’t have to let me go. I’ve always been known as being weak and unconfident. I know who I am, Honorable Neeza. I know what people think about me.”
“You have any children?”
Biverin answered, “A beautiful young girl named Hirora. She’s sixty-five, so still a child. She enters the Telekinetics School in a couple years. Another one on the way too. I’m doing this for them. It’s tough going when the parents are known as they are even to the younglings. Once the other students find out that Hirora's father dropped from school and a coward, her life will be made miserable. I don't want her to share the same fate as me. She is a bright girl for her age. I had to do something brave. This is my chance.”
Neeza wished everything he said was a lie. Myyril schools were a very difficult spot for a youngling. There were lots of bullying and name calling, mixed with selfish tricks and blatant use of skills against weaker mages. He knew this all went on. He began to think about his own daughter, Divi. Mother passed away while she was young and at her advanced age, still didn’t know magic; Prime material for bullying to be done if there ever was. It normally wouldn’t because she was the daughter of the leader and was the heir to the throne.
That is where he began to feel terrible. The kids in school only did it to her because he encouraged it. He didn't want to, but he was running out of ideas. She had to learn magic. Not even having her friend be her teacher was enough. Peer pressure was a powerful tool and one he hoped would get her to crumble faster in her decision to not learn magic. Yet, it made her stronger. Definitely was one of the biggest backfires he ever had.
Neeza finally said, “I know for a fact you are making them very proud. When we come back with the Relic, you’ll be able to parade through the streets and show all those doubters. Someone told me before we left that those who have gone to Mount Hrithgorn rarely come out the same person. You will be changed for the better.”
Biverin asked, “Can you guarantee we’ll be returning home?”
Neeza figured he would level with Biverin. He was more mature than the others and would understand more.
“No. This has been much harder than I anticipated. But those who do, will have a great story to tell.”
He could tell Biverin appreciated the honesty. He wanted to be able to promise them safe returns, but with the Garchai involved he wasn’t so sure he could guarantee them anything anymore. They were living in a fairy tale, only a demented horrible one with real-life consequences. Normally in stories and fairy tales, the brightly colored birds aren’t trying to eat you. Happy endings in this place, he was coming to realize, was something he couldn’t promise.
Biverin just said, “Sleep well, Honorable Neeza.”
Both men fell asleep shortly after. As they did, Lindaris finally joined Dyenarus on watch. She was annoyed by his lack of timeliness and urgency. Having two pairs of eyes was better than one, especially on that night.
“I almost thought you fell back asleep.”
Lindaris replied, “I find your lack of faith in me troubling. I may be rough around the edges, but I’m not here to intentionally harm anyone. I know the talk around this little group of ours; that I don’t care about anything or anyone. It’s tough being labeled.”
Dyenarus added, “Well, based off your past, it seems justified.”
She was going to be a tough cookie to crack. Maybe she
wasn’t playing hard to get either. Well, he liked a challenge.
Lindaris continued, “You know, we never settled on my reward for squiring your important bag back into your trusting arms.”
“Reward? What are you babbling about? I said thank you . . . eventually.”
She just wasn’t getting it. Maybe she was just naïve. He inched closer to her. She was obviously getting uncomfortable with his actions.
“I think it deserves a little more than a thank you. You know, I could have left it or just left the group, taking it with me. But, I stayed just so you can have it back. A heroic deed should never go unrewarded.”
Dyenarus finally got where he was getting at the moment she saw him moving in for a kiss. She placed her hand in front of his face as he kissed her palm. She stood up with a mix of anger and disbelief. Heroic? He considered that heroic! She was appreciative he brought it to her, but she believed he was thinking a little too hard on this matter.
“We have killer birds and natives who would love to see our heads on sticks after us and could come at any moment, and you’re trying to ask me to make out with you?”
Lindaris thought about it for a moment and replied, “I said a kiss, after that we could see where it went.”
“You’re unbelievable! Look, I’m just going to set this straight for you. I appreciate you bringing my bag, I really do. But I’m not . . . romantically interested in you. I just forgot the silly thing! Trust me. I’m not your type.”
“And what is my type?”
Dyenarus answered, “How about Guillia? Us girls talk, you know.”
Oh dear. Guillia. She was in the Black Magic School with him, only a couple years older. Her eyes were as green as a jade and had beautiful red hair, a trait in a Black magic female that some teachers took as a sign she might be something special. She was very competitive and in order to impress her, he found himself always in duels with other higher ranked Black magic students. He lost every time, of course. He always did love her, but she was almost unattainable in his eyes.