“Yep!” Joey said, climbing to his feet. “That's got it.”
“Got what?” the paladin asked.
“This,” the wizard replied before reading aloud from the paper in his hand.
As he brought his spell to an end, he slammed his staff on the ground. Once again, green flames burst from his back, this time taking on the shape of a pair of bird wings, before burning away, leaving flesh and bone in their place.
“Okay,” Joey sighed, turning his back to his companions. “I'm afraid to look. How'd I do?”
“They're beautiful!” Nyssa cried, flying up to inspect them. “Although, they're a little large for my taste.”
“Are they?” he asked, a smile spreading across his face. “I've been trying to work out scale for a while now. Bro, before I take a look for myself, be honest with me: How big are they?”
“Bigger than last time,” Paul said with a rising inflection. “What kind of wings are they supposed to be?”
“Eagle's wings, man,” he said, stretching the wings in question. “Look at them.”
“Ah...” he nodded. “In that case, they may be a little bit smaller than last time.”
“What?!” the wizard replied, spinning around and doing his best to see his smaller-than-average eagle wings.
As he was thus occupied, a cat-like yowl rent the air.
“What was that?!” Joey asked, instantly folding up his wings and turning toward the sound.
Chapter 17: An Ancient Enemy
“I'm not sure,” Alena said, leaping to her feet and drawing her sword, “but, we'd better find out.”
Immediately, Myra began casting the spell that allowed her to detect undead, while the rest of her companions prepared themselves for battle. The moment her enchantment was complete, the maiden gazed into the darkness with glowing green eyes.
“Whatever it is,” she said, as another cry tore through the night, “I can't see it.”
Paul closed his eyes and focused himself on detecting any evil that might be nearby. He opened them to find nothing before him but darkness.
“Neither can I,” he said after several silent seconds.
“Maybe whatever it is isn't close enough for you to see,” Joey speculated.
“Maybe,” the ogress replied without conviction, “but, it sounds too close for my comfort.”
“I'll go find out what it is,” Nyssa said, fluttering toward the edge of the firelight.
“No, you won't,” Joey asserted. “It's too dangerous.”
“You really are very sweet sometimes,” she said, spinning around to face him as she continued to fly toward the edge of the camp, “and very stupid. Whatever it is, it won't see me unless I want it to.”
Having said this, she vanished from sight.
“Nyssa!” Joey yelled as loudly as he dared. “Would you please come back here?”
“I'm sure she'll be fine,” Paul assured him, as yet another cry echoed through the surrounding hills.
“Unless she flies into some anti-fey ward or something like that,” the wizard almost snapped. “I have got to find a way to fly! She is going to end up getting herself killed. Thank everything good that the rest of us generally have enough sense to stick together. Why, in all of Zanoth, does she feel that she needs to go on these one-person suicide missions?”
“They haven't been suicidal yet,” Myra pointed out.
“Paul,” he continued, ignoring the maiden's observation, “you should have ordered her not to go.”
“I can't order her to do anything.”
“Yes, you can!” Joey disagreed. “She's convinced that you're going to be king of all Zanoth. I'm sure she'd do anything you asked her to!”
Due to the circumstances, this rather loud discussion began to escalate into a real argument just before the fairy reappeared in the firelight.
“I found it!” she smiled. “Come and see!”
After taking a deep breath through his nose, and letting it out slowly, Joey cast his light spell. The party then followed the fair fluttering fairy a short distance into the woods. There, at the foot of a large tree, was massive, sleeping cat.
“What is that?” the wizard asked. “It's got to be close to the size of a tiger.”
“It’s called a ragmor,” Nyssa explained. “But, I've never seen a living one before.”
“Some believe that they're where Maruel came from originally,” Myra pointed out. “I've never believed that, though. I think the fact that they're both cats is just a coincidence.”
“Quick question,” Joey said, gazing at the animal. “Why don't you ever put undead to sleep, Nyssa? It seems like a really good way to take them out of a fight.”
“It's much harder to do if someone feels that they're in danger,” she explained. “Plus, of course, the undead don't sleep – unless they want to, I mean.”
“Ah,” the wizard nodded. “Of course.”
“What do we do with it?” Paul asked.
“Leave it alone,” Myra replied. “Even if it wakes up, it won't come near the firelight. I'm sure it was just out hunting.”
The party made their way quickly back to camp before settling in for the night. Paul took first watch, along with Myra. The pair of them sat side by side, quite contentedly discussing things like names they liked, and where in the fortress a house might have the best view from its windows, until it was time to wake Sarrac and Alena.
The couple then stretched themselves out by the fire and quickly fell asleep. The paladin's dreams were filled with images inspired by his conversation with his lady love. In a particularly vivid vision, he saw himself sitting at a table near the gleaming fireplace of a comfortable cottage; working away on making a small wooden sword. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
He leapt up, crossed the room, and opened it. There, in the falling snow, stood Cal Morrin vigorously rubbing his own arms.
“May I come in?” he asked.
“Certainly,” Paul replied, somewhat surprised to see the deceased man standing in his doorway.
“Let's sit down,” he said, stepping into the room, pulling out a chair, and taking a seat at the table.
Paul joined him.
“First,” Cal Morrin said with a wide smile, offering his hand to the young man, “it's good to see you again, Paul.”
“I feel the same,” he replied, taking his friend by the wrist as it struck him that the current situation seemed impossible. “Is this really happening?”
“There are two ways of looking at that,” the dead paladin chuckled. “If you mean: are we really in your house? The answer is no. If you mean: Am I really Cal Morrin and are we really talking? The answer is yes. It's just that you're dreaming at the moment.”
“Alright,” Paul said, slowly nodding. “In that case, what do you want to talk with me about?”
“All kinds of things,” Cal Morrin replied with a wide smile. “But, we don't have time for that now. That will have to wait until you've joined me. Which, I sincerely hope, won't be for some time.
“At the moment, I want to talk to you about the enemy you're currently in search of. Kallen is a truly deadly foe. You have to make sure that you're as prepared as you can be before you face him. Part of that means learning a particular song.”
“What song is that?”
“This one,” Cal Morrin answered before beginning to sing unknown words in a low and powerful voice.
As he sang, the chamber was filled with light and the entire building began to shake with the force of an earthquake.
“Now,” he smiled. “You try.”
After what seemed like an hour, Paul had learned the song and could sing it with the same effects as his instructor.
“Well done, Paul,” Cal Morrin said, climbing to his feet as he spoke. “Whatever you do, don't forget that song. Keep singing it in your head until you find Kallen. Then, start singing it before he reaches you. It will protect you and your companions from his breath.”
“Thank you,”
the paladin said, once again taking his friend by the wrist. “Why did you wait to tell me this until I was asleep?”
“The Law,” he replied. “You may learn more about it in time but, for now, I can tell you this: the war for Zanoth is a war among the gods – whatever mortals may or may not think. You have truly terrible enemies, Paul. But, you also have unbelievably powerful allies. Both sides are fighting with everything they have. For a long time now, wickedness has been winning. However, I believe the tide will soon turn. For my part, I'm doing everything I can to help you.”
As he said this, he stepped toward the door.
“One more question.”
“Yes?”
“What are the heavens like?”
“Now, now, Paul,” he replied, pretending to disapprove of the question. “That would be telling, wouldn't it? In any event, make sure you make use of those crossbows. They weren't exactly easy to get.”
“We will,” the paladin replied.
“We will what?” Joey asked.
“What?” Paul said, slowly opening one eye. “I just had the strangest...”
The young man stopped speaking mid-sentence as the voice of Cal Morrin echoed through his mind.
“Sing the song, Paul,” he instructed.
Immediately, the young man obeyed, beginning to run through it in his mind.
“Are you alright?” Joey asked, climbing to his feet.
In response, the paladin simply raised his finger in silence. As soon as he had finished the song, he spoke.
“I'm fine,” he replied. “I saw Cal Morrin in a dream last night.”
“Did you?” the general asked, turning his gaze to the young man.
“I did,” Paul nodded. “He sang me a song that he insisted I learn.”
“Is it any good?” Joey asked.
“I think so,” Paul chuckled.
“Sing a few bars.”
“I'm going to save it for later,” the paladin replied. “He told me to sing it to Kallen.”
“I hope he likes music,” Darek smiled.
In less than half-an-hour, the party was once again on the move. Paul rode at the back of their column, carefully repeating the tune he had been taught endlessly in his mind. By early afternoon, they came upon a strange sight. Half a mile ahead of the band was what appeared to be a wall of darkness. On one side was light and life; on the other, impenetrable gloom.
“I've got the feeling we're getting close,” Darek asserted.
“That would be my guess,” Alena agreed, cocking the crossbow she held in her hands. “We'd better be ready for anything from here on out.”
The remaining crossbows were readied and the companions urged their beasts onward toward the patch of unnatural night. As he had done the previous evening, Joey channeled arcane energy to create a small ball of floating light. However, its pale radiance was unable to pierce the black veil that stood before them. Nyssa then cast a similar, but much more powerful spell. This succeeded.
With the aid of her incantation, the light of the sun was able to drive back the shadows that struggled against it. As a result, the members of the band were able to discern a portion of the land that stood before them. It was one of death. The scene that met their eyes was one of completely barren soil; it's only feature a single lifeless tree.
“This was more like what I was expecting,” Joey nodded.
“Yeah,” Paul agreed, gently kicking his mount into motion, “me, too.”
The moment he entered the area, the paladin was almost overwhelmed. The ground itself seemed infused with the very essence of evil. This was a place where wickedness had reigned unopposed for centuries; a place of unending and unrelenting darkness. It was the realm of a true abomination.
Almost immediately, the paladin brought his mount to a stop. The creature had begun to shake uncontrollably the moment it crossed the line separating day from night.
“Is everything alright?” Joey asked with a slightly nervous tone in his voice.
“No,” Paul replied, shaking his head. “Very little in this place is right. We need to leave the horses behind.”
“I don't think that's a good idea,” Darek said. “If anything goes wrong, we may need them to get out of here.”
“If anything goes wrong,” the paladin replied, staring into the darkness ahead, “I don't think having horses will help us. Look at them. They're terrified. If one of them were to bolt, they might well end up getting their rider – not to mention themselves – killed. This place is filled with the dead.”
In response to this assertion, Myra began chanting to herself.
“They're specters,” the maiden asserted as she scanned the area with glowing, green eyes. “At least, all the ones that I can see are.”
“How many are there?” the wizard asked.
“A lot,” she replied. “Still, they won't be able to reach us as long as we stay in the sunlight.”
“Why are they here?” he asked. “I thought you said that Kallen wasn't likely to allow other undead to just roam around the area.”
“They're his worshipers,” the paladin asserted.
“How do you know that?” the fair former lich asked.
“I'm not sure,” he admitted.
“I'm not sure about leaving the horses behind,” Darek added, climbing from atop his own. “But, if we're going to, let's get on with it. We certainly don't want to be here after nightfall.”
This was an observation all of the companions agreed with completely. They led their mounts back into the light and released them to graze in a nearby field. This done, they once again plunged into the realm of darkness.
As they made their way forward, countless incorporeal undead surrounded them; staying just beyond the reach of the light. More than once, the paladin found himself tempted to turn them, but he felt that it would be best to hold his power in reserve for the upcoming battle. Ending the life of the would-be-god would likely scatter his followers. If it didn't, sanctifying the ground would. That was something Paul intended to do as soon as possible.
The land through which they passed was somewhat different than the dark lands they were accustomed to. Although it lacked even the most rudimentary life, the death that filled it seemed – at least to Paul – somehow more natural. It took him several minutes to work out why this was, but eventually it dawned on him.
It was simply the lack of light that had decimated the land. Unlike in dark lands, the earth on which they trod seemed both well-watered and fertile. The lifeless trees that they passed weren't struggling against the power of death, they had simply been separated from the sun. It was obvious that the area was completely dead, but it was equally evident that it could live again. This was not readily apparent in the lands corrupted by the power of a dark shard; although the young man realized that such was, in fact, the case.
After a walk of nearly half a mile, they reached what they felt certain was their destination. It was a small shrine built of white stone. Unlike all the other places of worship that Paul had encountered in Zanoth, it was completely intact.
“This has been a surprising trip,” Joey said, shaking his head. “I expected it to be a ruin.”
“It has been surprising,” Nyssa agreed, nodding her head excitedly. “It's also been a bit spooky – what with the legion of undead that I can't see creeping all around us, just waiting for a chance to tear our souls out of our bodies. Hopefully, our battle with Kallen will be truly thrilling. That would really make the trip memorable. Well, that and seeing that herd of galtars.”
“I wouldn't worry about it,” the wizard said. “I don't think you're going to have any trouble remembering. I know I won't.”
“You're not as good at forgetting as I am,” she assured him.
“Let's get inside,” Paul said, handing his crossbow to Joey and drawing Telseir from its scabbard. “I've got the feeling that the chimes and bells we're looking for are going to be inside.”
The companions followed on the he
els of the paladin as he made his way up the stone steps that led to the large double doors heading into the shrine. Before he touched them, Myra inspected the entrance for traps. Unsurprisingly, there weren't any. Paul threw the doors open only to find that Nyssa's spell didn't seem to light the interior.
“How do we get around that?” the paladin asked.
“Around what?” the fluttering fairy asked.
“The dark,” he said with a rising inflection.
“A light spell,” she suggested with a tone of isn't it obvious.
“I would have jumped to that conclusion,” he explained, “were it not for the fact that your spell isn't lighting in there, if you see what I mean.”
“What?” she asked with a hint of confusion, before she managed to work out what he was saying. “Oh, right. I didn't cast a light spell,” she explained, “I cast an anti-dark spell.”
“I got ya,” Joey nodded. “So, all this light actually is coming from the sun.”
“Yes, Joey,” she said with a sigh as she rolled her tiny eyes, “in my experience, most of the light in Zanoth comes from the sun. Every time I think you're getting smarter, you prove me wrong. I really wish...”
The wizard interrupted her by once again intoning the words required to shape arcane power into light. This drove back the shadows before them, revealing most of the interior of the shrine. Several interesting sights immediately met their eyes. The center of the chamber was dominated by an altar covered in – what appeared to be – relatively fresh blood. A number of stands with large chimes and bells hanging from them were behind the altar. What both Paul and Myra found most compelling, however, was the horde of incorporeal undead slowly rising through the floor.
“Any idea what tune we're supposed to play?” Darek asked, stepping toward the doorway.
Instantly, Paul grabbed him by the shoulder.
“The place is packed with specters,” he pointed out.
“Why can't I see them?”
“They're hiding,” Myra replied.
“It's too bad that Joey’s light spell can't kill them,” Darek observed aloud.
“It is,” Nyssa nodded excitedly. “Supposedly, there's a spell that can create actual sunlight, but I can't cast it. I mean; if there even is such a spell.”
The Shrine of Kallen (The Tales of Zanoth Book 3) Page 30