The Black Morass

by Gerald Lambert

  to. But how would she resist him? He had already forced her body to act against her will using her mind. He could surely do it again.

  And if she tried to resist him, would she be able to maintain his favor—if she even had it to begin with—and thereby uncover what she needed to learn to reverse his plot and

  restore the Dragon Riders, if such a solution even existed? Lena's mind worked furiously to find an answer, for she knew she might not have much time and she needed to be ready

  in case Tenga made the attempt sooner rather than later. She remembered the jumpy titter Tenga had released upon first admitting such a desire and hoped he might actually be

  nervous to do as he had threatened. Perhaps that would give her more time.

  As the minutes passed, Lena became grateful for the heat from her ring because she was otherwise freezing. She realized that they had never deviated from their original course

  over the ocean, and she wondered for the first time where Tenga was taking her. Perhaps she would finally learn what her mother had been desperate to know for so many decades —the location of Tenga's hideout.

  And Lena soon learned just that. Not two minutes later an island came into view, encircled by a ring of craggy, snowcapped mountains, which were glistening like white flames in

  the light of the setting moon. Lena's heart filled with dread and astonishment. They were swiftly approaching what could be none other than Aras Thelduin, the fire mountains of

  Vroengard.

  Within a couple more minutes, Tenga and Lena soared through a canyon between two of the jagged peaks, slowing to a less jarring speed and lightly landing in a clearing overgrown

  with various tangled bushes—roses, thistles, and raspberries—directly at the foot of an imposing granite monolith covered in lichen and creeping ivy. Behind them grew an ancient,

  gnarled apple orchard, beyond which stretched a vast and gloomy valley dotted with stone ruins. Just as she had recognized the island from her studies and the stories she had

  heard, Lena now identified her location as the Rock of Kuthian, and the earlier shock only intensified.

  Without saying anything to Lena, Tenga released her, approached the spire, and muttered several phrases in the ancient language, which Lena easily understood. As a fissure split

  the solid stone face, quickly outlining an arching doorway, Lena was dumbfounded to realize that Tenga had just spoken his true name, thus revealing far more to her about his

  character. He disappeared into the gloomy tunnel beyond the entrance to the Vault of Souls, and Lena processed what she had just learned, marveling that Tenga had not recognized

  the folly of his actions.

  She realized he was a coward, but a man of his word, which comforted her, since she knew he truly would not harm her—at least in the sense of inflicting physical pain—if she

  behaved. He was very arrogant, convinced of his superiority and power, demanding respect, and Lena supposed that anyone who had lived such a length of time—over a thousand

  years, as his true name revealed—would develop that trait.

  Rather than dwelling any longer on the other aspects of Tenga's true name, Lena used the time available to her to quickly slip off her golden ring, returning it to its original chain—

  grateful Will had refastened it around her neck and that she hadn't subsequently removed it—and reattaching the chain under her clothing around her waist, where she tucked it into

  her undergarments so it wouldn't slide down any farther.

  Satisfied the ring wasn't obvious from an outward perspective, Lena then determined how she would act in Tenga's presence. She must be honest whenever possible so he would

  learn to trust her, and her thoughts—in case he decided to ascertain her truthfulness with his mind—must reflect that honesty. She would be deferential without groveling, obedient

  without being servile. She knew Tenga must already assume she was clever, so she wouldn't feign ignorance, but nor would she ever act haughty, for Tenga was certainly far from

  stupid, though speaking his true name in front of her had been very foolhardy indeed. Perhaps he hadn't considered it a risk since she couldn't use magic to abuse that knowledge

  and force him into her service, as Galbatorix had done with her father.

  Lena needed to be polite without seeming insincere, curious without seeming desperate. And above all, she needed to ensure that Tenga felt this was the true Lena, not an actress

  performing a part. Her second true name reflected these characteristics, so if Tenga ever attempted to discover that defining summary of Lena's personality, he would find only

  what Lena had already decided to show him. She was confident that she could keep the rest safe behind the walls of her mental gazebo, for by the end of their practice sessions,

  Brom had tried every method he knew of to bypass her defenses, but since her stronghold was guarded by such a small opening—access to which was only possible with knowledge

  of Lena's hidden character—Brom had never breached her barricade.

  Tenga emerged from the Vault of Souls not long after, and he marched over to Lena, once again seizing her by the arm and dragging her away. As they started through the

  foreboding apple orchard, Lena quietly said, "We're on Vroengard, aren't we?"

  Tenga did not respond, so Lena mildly continued, "Was that the Rock of Kuthian?"

  "That is none of your concern, young lady," Tenga snapped.

  "Why did you go in?" Lena wondered, sure she already knew the reason.

  "Enough questions," Tenga barked.

  "Very well. I will willingly follow wherever you take me, if it's easier for you to walk without holding my arm."

  Tenga twittered mirthlessly, releasing her arm. "Can't escape, now can you, pretty girl? You are an unbound captive. Vroengard is the perfect prison for one without a dragon or my magical abilities." Then his manner abruptly changed and Tenga cast a suspicious glare in her direction, nervously stroking his long beard with one hand. "Trying to create a

  favorable first impression, eh? Want old Tenga to trust you?"

  "That seems a better way to start out than the alternative," Lena replied. "Do you even know my name?"

  "You are Lena."

  "Yes. May I ask another question, unrelated to the first?"

  Tenga scowled, but nonetheless relented, "As you wish."

  "Do you live here alone?"

  Tenga released another humorless laugh. "No, dear girl. Many have joined my forces, driven here by your mother's misguided efforts. I daresay you will recognize some of them,

  for they once were loyal to the queen. Their loyalties have since shifted. To me. We are going to them now. Perhaps you will be interested in their . . . unique features."

  Tenga's odd tone and strange pause left Lena uneasy, but she made no comment, instead trying to prepare herself for an unsettling and potentially frightening experience. "Does the

  poison in the air not affect you or them?"

  "I have protected myself from the effects," Tenga responded. "And now you, of course. Those who have joined me and are strong enough magicians have done the same for

  themselves. As for the others . . . well, you shall see."

  Tenga sat in his quarters, reading some of his old notes. Over the past month something had repeatedly reminded him about his pet project, and Tenga decided to refresh his memory on how to usher in an age of light by somehow harnessing lightning. This obsession had occupied Tenga's every waking hour—and a goodly portion of his dreams as well—

  prior to the high queen's ridiculous searches.

  Then he had devoted himself to avoiding detection, for he would be the one to end the age of darkness and ignorance, and all would praise his deed.

  Savages! Tenga thought to himself. People content to live as savages when they could enjoy so much more! Advancements, inventions, discoveries. Well, I haven't forgotten my

  quest
to uncover the answer. And I was so close before the queen began meddling. And then? Why then I had to go into hiding! How I despise that woman! I hope she and her

  friends have perished at last on that deserted island! If not . . . I will indeed kill them when the Ra'zac transform. Or perhaps I will first dispose of their children. Then again, the maze and Shade should do an effective job of that. Nine children. Bah! Who knew what trouble nine young children could be! I do anticipate Trianna's account of their adventures

  through the maze. A brilliant idea, that, if I do say so myself. And I am particularly interested in how the electrical field worked. Dangerous thing, electricity. I hope it took a few of

  them out for us.

  Tenga mused on and on. He was awake at this late hour awaiting a report from Trianna. The previous evening she had scryed to inform that the youth had arrived at the entrance

  to the maze that afternoon. And should they somehow miraculously make it through their delightful trap, Trianna was prepared to meet them with her final deadly snare, one they

  would have no chance of escaping.

  All the better, Tenga deliberated. While I positively abhor certain people, I detest the idea of killing them almost as much. I, who have lived over a thousand years because of my

  fear of dying, can scarce bear the thought of personally ending another's life. Which seems fitting and yet also odd, when I do so delight in observing their suffering.

  Tenga tittered quietly, shuffling through the pages of his records. No, but I would much rather allow someone else to do my dirty work. Someone like Trianna. A splendid team we make, she and I. I am the mastermind and she the machine. She delights in that instant of expiration when the heart stops beating, the lungs stop breathing, the mind stops working. And the more pain one experiences leading up to that moment, the better. I suppose that's one thing we have in common. . . . When did I become so twisted? I have been

  far too focused on vengeance for far too long. And since I have taken my revenge, I have been wholly engaged with another development. Lena. Hmm . . . what to think about

  Lena? I feel like I have never really understood the girl. And why should that surprise me! Ancient bachelor that I am! The idea that I would comprehend a teenage girl is laughable

  indeed!

  Tenga chuckled again. He was always in high spirits when he studied his innovation. But thinking about Lena focused Tenga's thoughts on his recent obsession with her. And that

  fixation served to temporarily distract him from his current scholarly efforts.

  Tenga arose from his desk and left his study, walking the short distance to Lena's room and quietly opening her door. Unsurprisingly, she was asleep. He crossed the floor to stand

  by her bed, gazing down at her lovely face, so peaceful in slumber.

  What a strange phenomenon, Tenga reminisced. Sleep brings an almost unearthly beauty to some. How she reminds me of Angela. I would sometimes watch her like this when she was under my care. Unlike Angela, Lena's skin is an attractive light brown, though her hair is the same. Black. Curly. But her eyes are also different. Angela's were dark and mysterious while Lena's are light and clear. Which feature has never permitted me to better discern her secrets. Surely she has secrets hidden somewhere in that intelligent young mind of hers. But she never acts like she has anything to hide. Whenever I pry, she lets me right into her thoughts. And all I see is her sitting in the garden surrounding her gazebo.

  The gazebo is the key. It must be.

  Studying Lena while she slept rekindled the other passion, one Tenga remembered with great fondness from his younger years. After centuries as a bachelor that urge had all but

  faded, only reawakening when he was once again in the company of a fair young lady. Even very old men could still feel that desire, as Tenga knew all too well.

  Perhaps I would proceed farther in my attempt if I initiated it while Lena was asleep, Tenga speculated. She really doesn't need to be looking at me, reciprocating my attentions. I

  could even keep her asleep. I only need her body. Nothing can compare with that sensation, especially not a young and healthy virgin. Yes, I do believe I shall try.

  Tenga twitched his head at the indistinct flicker in his awareness, which reminded him of a mosquito buzzing by his ear. Before he could focus on it, he remembered his

  experiments, his ambition, his life's work.

  No, I needn't waste my time on such trivial pleasures, he decided, turning away from Lena's bed. I must focus if I am to accomplish my goal. All of Alagaёsia will one day revere me as the supreme magician and inventor of all time. And when Trianna scrys, she will contact the mirror in my study. I need to be there when she does. He exited Lena's room

  and headed back to his quarters, stopping with his hand on the doorknob.

  But what was that buzzing . . . ? Tenga absently wondered, and his mind worked for a moment to pinpoint the subtle distraction. That has been happening rather frequently of late.

  Always when I contemplate stealing Lena's virtue. Could something be interfering with my thoughts?

  This possibility greatly disturbed Tenga, who always considered himself unmatched when it came to mind control and magical skill. And for some reason, that disquiet made him

  think of Trianna, whose excessive and almost repulsive obeisance had recently been a less and less convincing disguise for her greed and ambition.

  Tenga imagined that the Shade aspired and plotted to one day displace him, though she knew such a feat was impossible so long as he had Bid'Daum's Eldunarí to aid him. Perhaps

  Tenga had been too open and trusting with Trianna. He had never explicitly shared his secret power source with her. But he had taken it with him to Ilirea so they could fashion the

  labyrinth in such a short amount of time, and the Shade had undoubtedly sensed the dragon's magnificent strength.

  You will need to be more careful and guarded about how you use the Eldunarí, Tenga cautioned himself. Allowing it to fall into any other magician's hands would be your undoing.

  And Trianna wouldn't hesitate to kill you if she gained possession of Bid'Daum.

  Tenga still hadn't entered his room, and his new worry about Bid'Daum once again derailed his intentions. He changed plans and continued on down the hallway, heading out of the

  building toward the Rock of Kuthian.

  I shall check on my weapon, Tenga determined. Ensure his safety and continued indifference. Can't have him waking up and suddenly resenting that I am borrowing his vitality. It would take months and months—years, even—to force such a being into submission, if I could at all. I would imagine his power is great enough to end my life if he so desired.

  Perhaps by influencing the air particles surrounding us. He couldn't cast a spell, necessarily, but Eldunarí have ways of manipulating their environment and even encouraging certain

  outcomes from great distances.

  Tenga entered the Vault of Souls when he arrived and descended the long stone corridor to the chamber beneath the surface.

  "Here you still are," he stated as he stopped in front of the white Eldunarí. "Just where I left you." Tenga twittered at his silliness. "No threat down here, are you? But you're still

  just as withdrawn as when I first discovered you. For the best. As far as I'm concerned, you may remain just as distant and apathetic for all of time. I will protect you from any

  harm, old dragon."

  While I'm down here, might as well check my other captives, Tenga decided. If they aren't simply two skeletons by now.

  Another gratified chuckle accompanied him as he circled the colossal white orb. He was somewhat surprised to find the Caretakers huddled together on the floor where he had

  initially deposited them months earlier, still just as naked and looking almost as healthy as ever.

  "Still alive?" Tenga questioned in consternation. "How is that possible?"

  The twin sisters said nothing as they blankly stared up at him. />
  "I want an answer!"

  The silverhaired elf distantly responded, "We obtain food from the orchard and vines directly outside of this cavern."

  "What about water?"

  "We purify the water above using magic," the other sister replied.

  "Of course," Tenga muttered, for that was precisely what he also did. Slightly louder he said, "Well, I suppose you are doing no harm. Can't leave the island, now can you? But

  should you ever try to turn against me, I will not be as lenient."

  He cursorily glanced about the chamber. "Thought I'd find another set of bones down here. Wonder what became of that accursed werecat. Have you ever noticed anything?" he

  demanded, again regarding the twins.

  "When you first brought us here," the first woman replied, "we saw a small skeleton. It so disturbed us that we cast it over the edge of that pit into the lava below."

  "I see," Tenga said with smug satisfaction. "Good riddance, I say. Well, I can't stay long. Expecting to hear from someone." And he turned without another word and retreated back

  up the stone passage.

  Iduna and Nёya remained in their affected stupor until Bid'Daum ascertained Tenga's full departure.

  He is gone, the dragon informed.

  "Good," Nёya breathed. "Thank you for warning us in time to remove our clothing and hide the other evidence."

  The Eldunarí did not acknowledge her gratitude.

  Swiftpaw then emerged from her place of retreat, once again a young girl with her arms full of clothing and the small basket of necessities from Lena.

  "Thank you as well, Swiftpaw," Iduna echoed. "Twice now you have assisted us in our deception. We are surprised but thankful that Tenga's arrogance hinders his full perception of

  the situation. He has never examined this vault with his mind, nor confirmed our words with a mental evaluation. He is too trusting, too certain we are helpless to defy him."

  "Did Bid'Daum learn anything useful?" Swiftpaw asked, handing over the clothes.

  I studied Tenga's mind only briefly for fear of his notice, the dragon shared. When I distracted him from again attempting to attack Lena tonight, he was more aware. He realized