Dimwater's Demons

by Sam Ferguson

  Leatherback stomped on the man, crushing him, and then flicked his body through the portal.

  Kyra then waved a hand and closed the portal, realizing that leaving it open was not smart. “Sorry,” she said softly.

  Leatherback set her down on the ground. “Njar will fight. This time, you stay with me, or go to your room.”

  Kyra nodded. She knew that had she gone through the portal, she likely would not have seen the strange assassin in time. She turned and hugged Leatherback’s foreleg. The great beast craned his neck down and around her to reciprocate the gesture.

  *****

  Njar stepped through the portal and found himself atop the manor’s roof. He scanned the area quickly. He could feel the shift of magical energies creeping through the forest around the manor. The hairs on the back of his neck stood and he turned to see a man covered in black tattoos climbing atop the roof near a chimney.

  “Blacktongues,” Njar hissed. He hated the dark band of assassins. He rushed toward the foe, leveled his staff, and pummeled the man in the face before he could rise to his feet. The Blacktongue flipped end over end until he slammed upon the ground in a crumpled heap.

  Two more Blacktongues were down in the woods near where the first one fell.

  Njar narrowed his golden eyes and leapt into action. He jumped from the roof, summoning a cushion of air to rise from the ground and soften his landing. As he descended, he blasted two bolts of lightning out from his staff, pulverizing the Blacktongues. He then sped through the forest, following the scent of dark magic that lingered in the air.

  From what he had seen in the Pools of Fate, he expected the more deadly creatures to be lurking in the woods to the north. The fact that he had killed three Blacktongues was a good sign, but he had seen four in his visions.

  Njar rounded a large mound and a fallen oak tree and then stopped short, staring at a crushed Blacktongue’s body. It was bloody and mangled, as if a large animal had gotten to him. Njar shook his head and moved on. There was no time to waste.

  As he moved, the air grew thicker and darker. The trees cast shadows over the forest and a strange chill hung in the air. Njar stepped into a small clearing and waited. This is where he had seen them appear. He readied his staff and turned his head to each side, his goat-like ears twitching this way and that to pick up the slightest of sounds.

  He held his left hand out and studied the energy coming from the ground. A thin layer of green mist glowed as he used his magic. Flowers bloomed in the field and the grasses grew taller, but it was not to last. A river of black mist poured in from the north.

  “They have come,” Njar said. He quickly cast a ward spell around himself. A great orb of gold appeared, encircling and protecting the satyr.

  A moment later, the black mist widened and through it came a hideous shape like a ghost. It had bony fingers and ragged robes that hung loosely around its body. A dark hood covered its head and face, but Njar knew what it was.

  The wraith shrieked and stalked around the golden orb, studying it and testing for weaknesses with its foul fingers.

  Njar turned his staff on the creature and sent out a shockwave. The wraith flew backward, but was not banished. Instead, the river of black mist flowed around the clearing like a massive python, squeezing the green energies into the center around the golden orb.

  The satyr turned and saw two more wraiths enter the clearing. Worse than that, a shadowy figure stood on the north end of the clearing, hidden just beyond the line of trees.

  “Where is the girl?” the figure hissed. “She was supposed to come.”

  Njar snarled, “Sorry to disrupt your plans.”

  The figure raised his hands and the three wraiths began to scream. The black mist rose up like a great dome, covering the clearing and blotting out the sun. The only visible light came from the green energy swirling around him, and Njar’s golden orb.

  The figure stepped more fully into the dome of darkness so that Njar could see him. He was a pale figure. He looked exactly as Njar had expected. His body was like that of an elf, with pointed ears and gaunt features. He was exceptionally tall, however, standing nearly eight feet. He was slender, but Njar knew that the shade was imbued with unnatural strength both physically and magically. He wore dark colored clothes with a flowing over-cloak. His hair was long and silver in color, which only accentuated his prominent cheekbones that protruded out from his gaunt face. A pair of fangs became visible as he sneered at Njar and spoke.

  “Why risk yourself to save her?” the shade asked. “What can you hope to accomplish?”

  Njar didn’t answer. He let the shade speak while he silently calculated the time he needed to finish conjuring the right spells to escape from the trap and weaken the shade.

  “My master seeks the dagger,” the shade said impatiently. “Where is it?”

  Njar knew he needed a bit more time before his energy would be ready for what he had planned, so he engaged the shade with his own question. “If I give you the dagger, will you leave her alone?”

  The shade tossed his head back and laughed. The evil mist closed in on the orb. The green energy was entirely swallowed in the darkness, except for that which remained untouched within Njar’s orb of protection.

  “No,” the shade said with a shake of his head. “My master also demands that I bring him the girl.”

  “For what end?” Njar asked. “She is but a child.”

  The shade shook his head. “No, she is more than that. She is Bhaltair’s daughter. My master should like to take her for his own designs.” The shade stalked forward and drew a long, sharp nail across the outside of the golden orb. The spell screeched and hissed as the nail created a sizzling line that threatened to crack the spell open.

  “Then there is nothing I can help you with,” Njar said.

  The wraiths screamed loudly and the darkness pulsed inward like a great current. The orb was struck like a gong and a terrible shockwave flowed through to Njar, shaking him and causing him terrible pain.

  “Your orb will not protect you,” the shade hissed. “Give me what I want, and I shall make your death quick. Tell me where the girl is, and the dagger.”

  Njar felt the green energy from below hook into his hooves and strengthen his legs. The spell had finally worked. Terramyr herself was sending the satyr energy to banish the creatures. He soaked the energy up through his legs, letting it course through his entire being like a warm fire in his veins. He smiled at the shade.

  “I think I would rather send you back to Hammenfein,” the satyr said. He raised his staff and struck the ground with the butt of his staff, then he stabbed out with the top of his staff and smashed the inside of the golden shell. A blindingly hot flash of light erupted from within the orb. It was a fire of green and white that grew around the satyr within a fraction of a second. The orb expanded, cracked, and then burst open. Rays of searing light pierced the darkness, tearing holes in the dome around him. One of the beams ripped through a wraith, dissolving the creature into a pile of screaming ash on the ground. Njar leapt out toward the Shade, his staff alight with white and green flames.

  The shade hissed and leapt back, receiving only a grazing swipe across his left shoulder. The wound smoked and bubbled, refusing to heal. The shade roared in anger and prepared a counter spell, but at that moment Njar’s spell erupted again and a roiling wave of light rolled out until it destroyed the dome of darkness. The sunlight poured in as the trees around the clearing were blown to the ground and caught fire. The other two wraiths were disintegrated in the spell as well.

  The shade screamed in pain as the sunlight burned his exposed skin. He leapt back into the woods and snarled at Njar, heaving for breath.

  “I’ll be back,” the shade warned before disappearing into a shadow.

  Njar looked around. His chest was moving quickly, pulling in as much air as he could. His body leaned heavily upon his staff for support. He hadn’t been entirely sure the spell would work, but he was pleased to see tha
t he had accomplished his goal. The Blacktongues and the wraiths were destroyed. The shade had at least been injured.

  Njar could now feel the energies in the forest return to their natural, balanced state as the shade’s presence was no longer upon the woods. The satyr turned to walk, but a terrible pain stung his leg. He looked down to see a terrible gash running across his furry thigh. Blood ran down in five different rivulets across his fur, and his muscle was barely able to function at all. He could feel his energy leaving him quickly. He glanced back to the shadow where the shade had escaped and tried to remember what had happened.

  He hadn’t felt it when it occurred, but he had seen a silvery flash when he leapt at the shade. It occurred to him now that he must have seen the shade swinging a sword, or perhaps wielding some sort of spell.

  Whatever it was, he needed to get home. He tried to cast a portal to Viverandon, but nothing happened. He hadn’t the energy left to cast a spell to travel that far. Njar slipped down to his knees. His breath was slowing, becoming hard to pull in with each inhalation. He then thought to open a portal to the aspen wood. It was much closer than Viverandon and wouldn’t require as much energy.

  He waved his hand and the flash of light rent the air in front of him. Through the portal, he could see Leatherback’s blue eye staring back at him. He reached out for the dragon, and then fell over onto his face.

  A great pair of talons reached through the portal and slipped under Njar’s armpits, then they dragged the satyr through the portal just moments before it closed.

  *****

  Leatherback startled when a portal opened to the grove. Kyra had already returned to her room, and he did not expect her to return. At first, when he saw the woods through the portal, he thought perhaps another strange warrior would emerge, but he soon saw the truth of it. Njar was kneeling upon the ground, injured badly and weak. The satyr reached out his hand.

  The dragon reached out to grab Njar, but not before the satyr fell over. He barely managed to pull him through before the portal closed. Njar moaned and winced as Leatherback set him down upon the grass. The dragon turned Njar onto his back and looked down into the wound. The flesh around the gash was beginning to turn black, and strange green ooze was forming at the edges.

  Njar held up his hand toward Leatherback. “Your head,” Njar said weakly.

  Leatherback bent down and touched his head to Njar’s hand.

  A flash of light shot into Leatherback’s mind and he saw himself flying up and over the trees, out to the northwest across a large sea, and then landing upon an island where a large tree stood. Then he saw the tree open a doorway to a new area and the vision stopped. The dragon felt cold as the light pulled back into Njar’s hand. He knew what he had to do. He scooped the satyr up gently in his clutches and launched into the air with a mighty roar. He beat his wings harder than he had ever done before. He flew the same route he had seen in his vision, except the vision had been much, much faster. In reality, Leatherback flew through the night. They traveled hundreds of miles in that time, and didn’t land upon the island with the large tree until the first rays of dawn broke over the horizon.

  They went deep into the forest and stopped at a grand oak tree. To say it was large would not begin to describe the gargantuan tree. The speckles and patches in its bark alone were bigger than the base of most oak tree trunks. The lowest branch looked to be six feet in diameter. By all accounts, the tree should not have been able to stand. A single leaf on the tree was half the size of a man.

  Leatherback moved toward the tree and nudged Njar with his nose.

  The satyr woke and smiled faintly when he saw the tree.

  “This is Nonac, the gate to Viverandon,” Njar said weakly. “Go close to it.” The satyr played a tune on his pipes and then pressed his hand to the tree. The tree groaned and lifted itself from the ground, exposing massive roots and pulling dirt up. The taproot was actually two giant roots entwined together. Slowly, they untwisted and opened up to what appeared to be nothing more than the forest beyond.

  Njar pointed to the opening. Leatherback had to crouch and squeeze through, but he was able to make it, though it was a tight fit.

  Once beyond the tree, Leatherback turned around to watch Nonac resettle into the ground, but he saw no large oak tree. There were only pine trees behind him. He stopped and turned slowly, taking in the new scene around him. He stood in a vast meadow of wildflowers of every color. Butterflies and bees made their way from blossom to blossom and the sun hung high in the center of the sky.

  Njar held his hand out and a strange, green mist rose up to his hand. The satyr breathed easier and then slid out from Leatherback’s clutches.

  “Thank you, my friend,” Njar said as he tried to stand. He leaned heavily on his staff and winced in pain.

  Leatherback looked beyond the meadow to see a line of pine trees. There was nothing else.

  Njar pointed to the far side of the meadow. “We must go there. Help me, would you?” Njar asked.

  Leatherback bent down and let Njar ride upon his back. As they reached the other side, Njar played his flute and a pair of pine trees lifted and pulled their boughs back to open the way through.

  Beyond the wall of trees stood a small city. There were houses, walkways, and fruit trees all around. The houses stood in a very strange arrangement, unlike anything Leatherback had seen while flying over human cities. Some were close to the trees they had just passed, others far off, but there were never more than two or three in a single grouping. Some even stood in the middle of walkways, as if someone had built the house atop where a road should be. The apple trees and other fruit bearing trees stood in a similarly chaotic arrangement. There was no perfectly lined orchard. There were scattered groups of trees, or single trees standing wherever a seed fell and took root it seemed.

  The grass was up to Leatherback’s ankles, and felt cool and soft as he walked, adding to the city’s warm charm. Leatherback grinned at a pair of satyr children who played near a house and stopped to look at him with mouths agape.

  “No one here will harm you,” Njar said. “They all know I have been working with you.”

  Leatherback continued to smile, undaunted by the gawking satyrs he passed as they made their way through the meandering town and out the other side toward a brook. The water coursed over and around large, smooth stones crashing and splashing gently between two banks of verdant grass dotted with red poppies and golden dandelions.

  The satyr tapped on Leatherback and the dragon stopped walking. Njar put his pipes up to his lips. He blew three notes gently, holding the third for a few seconds before pulling the pipes away from his mouth.

  The air shimmered and waved before them, like a heatwave rising from the ground. Then, a large stone tower formed in front of them. Gray, smooth stones came into view along with a door of dark ebony wood at the base of the tower. Ivy and morning glory crept up the stonework, adding life to the otherwise cold and foreboding structure.

  The door opened, but there was no sign of light from within the tower.

  “Take me to the door,” Njar said.

  Leatherback did as he was told and then leaned down to allow Njar to slide off. The satyr hobbled in through the doorway and then turned to Leatherback.

  “I need rest. When I am able, I will take you back to the grove.”

  Leatherback looked behind him and then back to the satyr. “I could fly back,” the dragon said.

  Njar cocked his head to the side. “You should rest too,” he said. “You have already made a long journey.”

  Leatherback shook his head, but then the satyr pulled the panpipes up to his mouth and blew four notes. It was as if the music brought exhaustion upon the dragon. He felt his muscles go lax and he slowly slumped down to the ground and his eyes closed at the same time the ebony door of the tower was shut.

  Chapter 10

  Kyra didn’t sleep more than a couple of fitful hours as she tossed and turned all night long. She couldn’t open a p
ortal to the grove either, for it would likely wake Linny. She thought about leaving the school grounds, but for some reason, Janik and Feberik were sitting in the hallway a short distance from her room.

  They had arrived only a few minutes after Kyra had returned to her room after teleporting to the rock nest and jogging back to the academy. They had checked on her, and then told her not to leave the room, closed the door, and moved to take up positions in the hallway.

  Even Janik wouldn’t tell her what was going on, and Cyrus was nowhere to be seen.

  She was still awake, lying in bed, when the first rays of the sun broke through her window. She slipped her feet to the floor and looked outside. The day was born with a gray, drizzly rain that slowly fell upon the school. Kyra looked toward the woods and wondered what had become of Njar.

  The young sorceress went to her door and opened it. Not only were Feberik and Janik still in the hallway, they had been joined by Headmaster Herion. The old wizard was speaking to the other two, but dismissed them upon seeing Kyra open the door.

  Feberik looked her way and offered her a smile, which she did not return. The large man frowned and hung his head as he turned to leave. Janik didn’t look at her as he turned to follow his brother.

  Headmaster Herion, on the other hand, made his way for her room. His face was as serious as she had ever seen it before. His walk seemed invigorated by a sense of duty as well, for he strode toward her with determined, strong steps that echoed in the hallway.

  “Go inside,” he called out.

  Kyra didn’t move out of the way in time, and the old wizard turned her about with a hand on her shoulder and began directing her toward her bed as he entered the room somewhat forcefully.

  Her mind began to race. Had he figured out that she and Kathair had seen the secret meeting? Did he know it was her who killed the wylkins? Or maybe the priests had told him something that had him upset. A firm hand pushed her onto her bed and then Headmaster Herion walked toward Linny. He shook her shoulder until she woke, and then instructed her to go to breakfast.