“What's so special about...” she asked reaching out to touch the water in Paul’s uplifted palm.
“Don't!” Alena interrupted a moment too late.
“What?” the lich asked, rubbing her fingers and thumb together. “It's not like I touched the altar or anything.”
“Well no,” Sarrac replied gazing at her from under knitted brows. “It's just that that's holy water and you're a lich.”
“So?”
“So,” he replied. “We expected it to burn you like acid.”
“You did?” she asked with a smile. “And you tried to stop me, Alena?”
“Well, yeah...” the ogress replied slowly. “I mean... I didn't want you burned... Plus, who knows if you've re-corrupted the shrine or not.”
“She hasn't,” Sarrac replied. “Not if that water didn't burn her.”
“I suppose that's true,” the ogress nodded.
Minutes later the young man poured the last of the water into his hand before rubbing it on the altar.
“Well, that's that,” he said, turning the empty flask upside down. “Is it purified?”
“I guess so...” Sarrac replied.
“I don't know,” Alena said. “I was expecting something more... something... I guess...”
“I told you guys this was a waste of time,” Myra pointed out. “Now let's get out of here while there's still a slim chance for you to escape!”
“Hold on,” Sarrac said raising his hand. “Paul can at least take a moment to pray and see what happens.”
“Now keep in mind, I already explained that to you,” the young man replied. “I only pray to one God.”
“We know,” the ogre nodded. “Just do what you would normally do.”
“Well I wouldn't normally do it at an altar,” the young man pointed out as he lowered himself to his knees. “But I'll do what I can.”
Paul closed his eyes, folded his hands, and bowed his head. He found himself wondering what day of the week it was and whether or not he had missed Sunday service. Of course, he had to admit that this whole thing had shaken his world view a little bit. For one thing, he couldn't imagine how a place like Zanoth fit into the whole plan of creation.
On the other hand, none of that mattered now. The point, at the moment, was that he was on a planet teaming with undead that fed on the living on a regular basis. If he had ever needed help in his entire life it was now. And with that thought in mind the young man asked for aid and guidance before once again climbing to his feet.
“Is that is?” Sarrac asked.
“That's it,” Paul nodded. “What did you expect?”
“You didn't even say anything,” Alena pointed out.
“My God can hear me even when I don't speak.”
“Maybe,” the ogress replied. “But nothing's happened.”
“Which is what I told you would happen,” Myra asserted.
“Well, maybe you corrupted the altar again!” Alena snapped, turning to glare at her. “You shouldn't have touched the water!”
“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”
“It's common sense!” the ogress barked. “If you're trying to purify a shrine you don't rub evil hands all over it!”
“I am not evil!” the lich yelled. “And don't blame me because you're stupid plan didn't work!”
“How do we know you didn't do it on purpose?!?!”
“What?!?!” the lich screeched. “That is the most hateful thing you've said to me so far! And that's saying something! Why in Zanoth would I...”
“Stop,” Sarrac interrupted, raising his hands as he spoke. “Just stop! Myra, we know you didn't do it on purpose. In fact, you may not have done anything at all. Alena's just upset. The truth is that we can't even be positive that Paul is the it.”
“You're right,” Alena said between clenched teeth. “Myra, I apologize, it's not your fault.”
“Thank you,” the lich replied.
“In truth, it's probably Paul's,” the ogress speculated.
“What?!?!” the young man exclaimed. “How're you gonna blame me? If you had got your summoning spell right in the first place...”
“Look!” Nyssa cried suddenly, pointing at the altar.
The four arguing companions all turned their eyes to the altar to find it lit by a single pale ray of light that had broken through the clouds.
“Very pretty,” Alena replied. “But I don't see how a crack in the cloud cover signifies...”
The ogress’s thought was interrupted by a tremor that rocked the entire shrine.
“Alright,” Myra said the moment it stopped. “That was a bit of a coincidence, but as Alena pointed out it doesn't mean...”
Again a tremor shook the building as the ray of light striking the altar increased in intensity. The break in the clouds above widened and a beam of pure gold fell from the sky, enveloping the shrine. Waves of energy pulsated down the glowing stream and the structure began shaking with the force of a full-blown earthquake. The remains of the fountain were knocked from above the spring and water began to shoot from it into the air.
“I admit this qualifies as something,” the lich yelled above the din. “And whatever else it may mean, it certainly means that if my father didn't know exactly where you were before, he does now. So, we really need to get out of here!”
“We have to wait for a sign,” Sarrac explained.
“More of a sign than this?” Alena replied. “Like what?”
“Like that maybe?” Nyssa shouted, pointing toward the doorway.
There, in the entrance of the shrine stood five or six fleshless skeletons stumbling their way into the structure.
“I don't think so,” Myra replied. “I think that's more a sign that the sleepers are awake! Alena, may I please have my staff back?”
“I guess so,” the ogress yelled. “But if you kill me, I swear by the gods that I'll haunt you for the rest of your life! Let's go!”
“Agreed!” Paul replied, charging toward the door, Telseir in his hand.
The skeletons where no match for the warriors and in moments they were little more than shivers of bone, many of which were burning with golden fire. As soon as the party emerged from the building, however, their eyes met a discouraging sight. The surrounding landscape seemed to be swarming with undead who, hearing the call, had awakened from their slumber to once again slay the living.
“Myra,” the young man said, turning his gaze to the lich, “I don't suppose you could...”
“What?!?!” she interrupted. “I mean, I might be able to take control of a few of dozen, but I can't do more than that! I can't command entire armies by myself!”
“Well what do we do then?”
“You guys die,” she explained, “and then I go home real depressed!”
“Seriously?”
“Of course I'll be depressed!” she exclaimed.
“I meant about the dying!” he yelled.
“Oh right,” she nodded. “Yeah, I'm serious about the too. Of course, Nyssa can get away and that's some comfort.”
“I'm not leaving you guys!” the valiant fairy cried.
“Back to the altar!” Sarrac demanded. “It's probably sanctified. That'll at least give us some advantage.”
The party turned, fleeing into the depths of the shrine as undead drew ever nearer.
“We've got to think,” the lich said, pacing back and forth in front of the altar. “There has to be something we can do! You! Guard the door! Attack any undead that approach!”
The zombie that had made its way halfway into the building immediately obeyed, turning to head for the door and beating a skeleton to pieces along the way.
“Well that's some help,” Alena smiled.
“Oh sure,” the lich said shaking her head. “Now all I need to do, is do that again about ten thousand times and everything will be fine! Except, of course, that my father's forces will be here by then and after we're captured he'll kill us all.”
“All?” Pau
l replied.
“It'll be a little hard to explain to him why I was helping you.”
“He would kill you for that?”
“Okay, probably not,” she admitted. “But it still wouldn't be any fun. Now shut up and think!”
“I think we need to try to get back down the mountain,” Nyssa said. “Paul has Telseir, you can take control of some them, and the rest of us fight very well. Plus, they may not really be after us at all, they may just be trying to corrupt the shrine again.”
“That's actually a really good point!” Myra agreed.
As they were talking a horde of zombies and skeletons began pressing their way through the door.
“You!” the lich cried, pointing as she spoke. “Kill him! And you two! Crush that skeleton!”
During this time the light flooding the altar had gotten brighter and brighter until it was almost blinding. Suddenly an object appeared in the midst of the glowing stream.
“Paul, look!” Sarrac shouted, “There's a gift on the altar. Accept it!”
The young man immediately obeyed, taking up the golden symbol by the chain from which it hung.
“Check it out!” he said with a smile. “I bet it's a holy symbol.”
“You're right about that,” Sarrac replied, a stunned look on his face. “And it's the symbol of the creator.”
“The creator?”
“Yes!” the ogre nodded. “The creator. The creator of everything that is, even the gods.”
“Cool!” the young man shouted. “How do I use it?”
“No idea!”
“No problem,” Paul replied confidently. “I totally got this!”
The young man drew himself up, puffed out his chest, and raised the symbol in his outstretched hand.
“Turn!” he cried.
Nothing happened.
“You!” Myra cried. “Kill him! And you! Beat that one to death! Oh forget it!! Die!!!”
As the lich said this black jets of energy shot from her staff destroying several of the undead that were nearing the altar.
“Turn!” Paul cried again.
Alena and Sarrac leapt into the fray doing their best to drive the monstrous horde out of the shrine as Nyssa began bathing one zombie after another in flames.
“Turn!” the young man cried for a third time.
“Would you stop saying that and just fight?!?!” Myra cried. “If it does do anything you don't know how to use it!”
“Well I won't know how until I figure it out!” he cried defensively. “And if I do I should be able to make all these monsters just drop dead!”
As he intoned the phrase drop dead golden light erupted from symbol in his hand, shaking the very walls of the building. The undead that filled the structure burned away in less than a second leaving nothing behind them but dust floating slowly to the floor below.
“Now that was something!” Alena cried.
“Oh yeah,” Paul said, stumbling one way then another before falling face down on the floor. “I told you I had it.”
Chapter 8: Good Food, Interesting Company
“I knew it, Paul!” Sarrac exclaimed, reaching down to help the young man to his feet. “I knew you had to be the it!”
“Yeah,” Alena nodded in agreement. “I don't think there can be any doubt of that now.”
“Your itness,” Nyssa said, kneeling at Paul’s feet.
“Stand up,” he chuckled. “This hasn't changed anything.”
“Oh yes it has!” Myra disagreed.
“Wait!” the ogress demanded. “Hold that expression! Let me just soak that in for a minute!”
“What do you mean?” the lich asked.
“That look on your face,” Alena explained. “That Wow! Something did happen! look. I want to remember that image until the day I die.”
“Well if we don't get out of here real soon you might not have to remember it for long,” Myra pointed out. “If my father thinks Paul is the it then all the undead in Zanoth will be searching for him.”
“Let them!” the ogress laughed. “He's got nothing to fear from them now.”
“Really?” the lich replied, turning her gaze to the young man. “How are you feeling, Paul?”
“I'm good,” he said, swaying slightly from side to side.
“Not feeling a little dizzy?”
“Maybe a little.”
“A touch nauseated?”
“A touch.”
“What's your point?” Alena asked.
“What do you know about turning?” the lich asked, gazing at the ogress.
“I know Paul just did it!” she retorted.
“That's right,” Myra replied. “And he may have some trouble doing it again today.”
“What do you mean?” Sarrac asked.
“Just what I said!” she replied. “I know a lot more about turning than you seem to. It may have been hundreds of years since anyone's done it, but the vampires that have felt it have long memories and it's something they still dread.”
“Alright,” Alena said. “Enlighten us.”
“Well first off,” the lich began, “turning actually channels divine energy through a mortal's body. And too much of that will cook them alive. So they can only channel so much before they need rest. Second, it doesn't affect all undead equally. Paul just destroyed a number of ancient, insignificant, and mindless undead. Had he done the same thing to my father it would have probably just made him angry. It'd be like throwing hot water on someone. It's not going to kill them, but it will make them want to hurt you pretty good.”
“Go on,” Sarrac nodded.
“Also Paul did it standing at the very foot of an altar that seems to be crackling with divine power at the moment.”
“It is,” Nyssa agreed. “I can feel it in the air.”
“Right,” the lich replied. “So the next time he turns it may not be nearly as effective.”
“I agree,” the fairy said. “In fact, the power's already fading. And I think we should go before it's gone.”
“That's what I'm saying!” Myra replied. “We can talk more on the way, but we need to go now!”
“I think we can all agree there,” Sarrac said. “You ready to leave, Paul?”
“Oh yeah,” the young man said, taking a couple of wobbly steps toward the entrance. “More than ready.”
Alena wrapped her arm around Paul's waist and put his arm across her shoulders, helping steady him as they made their way out of the shrine. They were somewhat surprised to find that the undead horde that been surging toward the shrine just minutes before seemed to have completely vanished. As the band began making its way down the massive staircase they could see the light descending on the shrine begin to fade as the clouds once again blocked out the sun.
“So,” Alena said, gazing at the lich, “what are your plans now?”
“What do you mean?” Myra asked.
“Well, now even you have to accept that Paul is the it.”
“I don't have to accept anything of the kind,” the lich replied. “I don't even think I believe in the it.”
“Then what just happened back there?” the ogress asked, pointing over her shoulder with her thumb.
“I don't know,” Myra admitted. “But it doesn't necessarily have anything to do with any prophecy. You guys are just doing things and then claiming they were destined to be done.”
“Alright,” Sarrac nodded. “Then come up with a theory.”
“Okay,” she nodded. “It could simply be that when you guys purified the shrine the gods took the opportunity to answer Paul's prayer, it being the only prayer handy at the time.”
“You said the gods of the living were dead.”
“Well that's what I was told,” Myra replied. “Clearly I was told wrong.”
“Right,” Alena said. “And that's why I want to know what your plans are.”
“I still don't see what you mean.”
“I mean,” the ogress explained. “That if the gods aren't dead,
this could be the beginning of the end for the undead. So which side are you on?”
“I'm on the same side I've always been on. Which I guess is everybody's side.”
“Well are you willing to help us fight the undead?”
“Of course not!” the lich exclaimed. “You might as well ask me if I'm willing to kill my parents.”
“That is what I'm asking!”
“Then the answer is: no!”
“You couldn't expect her to say anything else,” Sarrac replied. “She's got her loyalties, just like we've got ours.”
“Well then why is she helping us escape?”
“Don't talk about me in third person!” Myra snapped. “And I'm helping you because I like you. And besides, this could actually be good for everybody.”
“What?!?!” the ogress said.
“Yeah,” the young man nodded. “I don't see that either.”
“It's part of that threatening I was telling you about, Paul,” she explained. “The undead are terrified that one day the priests and paladins will return.”
“And they will!” Alena interjected.
“Well, either way, it's a powerful bargaining chip,” she continued. “If I can persuade them that the gods of the living are still alive and that pushing the people too far will result in the priests coming back they'll be much more willing to negotiate.”
“You don't negotiate with evil,” Sarrac replied. “You destroy it.”
“Uh...” she moaned. “You guys are so pig-headed sometimes! Would you please just let me finish?”
“Please do,” Paul smiled. “Oh, and I think I can walk now.”
Alena loosened her grip on the young man, making sure he could stand on his own before letting him go completely.
“As I was trying to explain,” Myra continued. “The fact that some priest or paladin or whatever Paul is, is out there ready to turn them at any moment will make them a lot more malleable. And that's what we want!”
“I appreciate what you're trying to do,” Alena said, “but you're completely insane. The undead aren't going to rest while they believe there's one priest or paladin in Zanoth.”
The Tower of Daelfaun (The Tales of Zanoth Book 1) Page 13