by C. K. Rieke
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
THE White Passage was something that Zaan had heard about in the stories his father told him when he was a child. His father had never seen it, because it was supposedly fabled, but his old sailor friends had spoken of it: a cave carved through the Cascades that began in the east, apparently near Barrier Cliff, and opened up on the west side of the mountains. It reportedly had been made long ago with an ancient and extinct magic, to facilitate trade between the east and west of Essill.
The interior of the passage was filled with bright white bricks, but most surprisingly to Zaan was that it was lit with lights that hung along the walls, as far as the eyes could see. They weren’t torches, and there was no smoke. He had never seen anything like it. “Amazing,” was all he could muster saying.
“Amazing, indeed,” Astor said. “This is a magnificent place.”
“It hasn’t been used for a long, long time,” Gildur said. “We must keep a good pace; it still takes time to travel through the passage.” The clacking of metal armor was heard as the party began moving again through the echoing tunnel. Most of the party members looked in wonder at the glowing white bricks laden with small, bright specks of what appeared to be gold.
Zaan was looking closely at the golden lights as Zelestiana came up and walked beside him. “You shouldn’t have come,” she said sternly. “You are not nearly ready for any of this.”
“Do you remember what you asked me the first time we met?” Zaan asked. “About the Black Cave?”
“I remember,” Zelestiana responded.
“You asked me why it took me so long to get out of there. And then you asked me why I had even let myself be taken in the first place,” Zaan said, looking up at her. She appeared to have something of a smile on her face. It was the first time he had seen that expression from her. “You may have just been trying to get a rise out of me, but I realize now what you meant. You meant for me to understand that things happen, things that we don’t like or don’t agree with. But we don’t always have to let them happen. There is always something we can do. Some form of control will exist. We can do things to change the future, but we have to change the present first. That is what we are doing. We are going to save Lily.”
“You may still be a young man, Zaan, but you are growing up. I am glad you escaped that evil place. I must ask, though: What role do you think that red stone played in your escape?”
“I don’t know. The more I think about it, the more it appears like it was the catalyst for all this happening. I don’t feel like it necessarily helped me with my powers or anything. It just . . . felt good in my hand. I felt kind of . . . powerful in some way.”
“Well, Palanzal is very interested in the little stone, as am I. If we weren’t on this quest right now I’m sure he would spend most of his waking time researching this mystery,” Zelestiana said.
“Why didn’t Palanzal come?” Zaan asked.
“For obvious reasons. He is old,” Zelestiana replied. “He is very powerful, but has a great number of years behind him.”
“Oh, what about Major Gylem? Why didn’t he come?” Zaan asked.
“He wanted to, and he is a great warrior, but he was needed to guard the city. Palanzal and Elindrill requested that he stay. You will have to wait another day to see him in battle,” she said. “There is another thing I wanted to tell you, Zaan.” He perked to attention. “The thing you did with the stone that broke Kimble’s awning. You should be able to lift and move things heavier and larger than that with practice. It takes confidence and focus, but someday you may be able to lift all of Kimble’s home. It is indeed a rare power you possess, one with great destructive potentials. It will take time to be able to harness this power while in a fight. Stay out of sight when we find Angela Dragus the Righteous. She might recognize you and go straight for you. Leave her to us.”
“Okay, but if you get in trouble . . .” Zaan started.
“Stay out of sight,” Zelestiana cut him off sternly.
***
Six hours later the end of the tunnel appeared. It came unexpectedly; because the door was a solid mirror that reflected the lights behind them, but not their own reflections.
“An impressive illusion,” Gogenanth said as the party walked through the mirror and appeared on the other side of the Cascade Mountains. They walked into the warm sunlight and felt its light on their skin in the cool winter air.
“Astor, Zelestiana, you go on ahead. Stake out the area and bring back a couple of horses if you can, in case Angela Dragus the Righteous tries to flee,” Gildur said. Very quickly Astor and Zelestiana ran off straight ahead. “Listen up.” The remaining party turned their focus to Gildur. “From here on out, be on your guard. Angela Dragus the Righteous is cunning and devious. There is no telling what may lie ahead.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
ASTOR and Zelestiana ran through the dense Yelden Forest, leafless branches stinging their faces. They were trying to get their trajectory right, so they would meet up precisely where Angela Dragus the Righteous and her group would be on the Hillspring Trail, the main road on the east side of the Yelden. Astor was smaller than Zelestiana and quick, but she was as silent as a cat traversing the heavily wooded area.
During their quick makeshift passage through the Yelden they came across a group of travelers camped out deep in the woods. “Thieves’ hideout,” Astor whispered to Zelestiana. She nodded in affirmation. They surveyed the area from a distance, unnoticed. There were a dozen men sitting around, drinking and eating. Four horses were stabled in a small hut on one of the sides. “We should remember this place, for our way back.” Zelestiana nodded again.
The two continued their sprint through the woods, not stopping to rest. They thought only of the girl on her way to be held and tortured, or worse. They both gasped for breath as they reached the point of exhaustion. For a full hour they had been sprinting through wilds an elk would have problems walking through.
Astor began to slow down and then raised his hand to Zelestiana to signal for her to stop. They both knelt low in the dead brush and snow. “The trail is right ahead,” he said. They crept in low and found a knoll they could perch on. Kneeling down, they then lay flat on their stomachs. “If we are lucky, they should be here any moment; if we aren’t, they are already gone.”
Chills ran through their bodies from the cold snow, but they did not feel them. Astor’s nerves were tense. As each minute went by, it was more likely that the group who held the innocent girl had already passed by. Zelestiana gave Astor a worried look, wondering if they should run north up the trail to possibly catch the troop, who might be on horseback now.
Then, a tiny gleam of red was visible in Astor’s eyes. Zelestiana turned to look back down the trail, and there she was: Angela Dragus the Righteous. She was a small speck on the horizon, fifty yards away, on foot. She was dressed in long red, thin robes and a sleek black hood. Then they saw a prisoner, presumably Lily, on horseback, blindfolded. It was not as Major Gylem had said, though: there were no other men or soldiers with them.
Astor and Zelestiana looked at each other in confusion. “What the . . . ?” Astor said.
“She is alone? The major’s intel was wrong,” Zelestiana said, surprised.
“Well, we should just go down there while we have the . . .” Astor started saying.
“Shhh . . . look,” Zelestiana whispered and motioned up into the trees above Angela Dragus the Righteous and Lily. Astor squinted and peered above her in confusion.
“The tree’s branches are moving directly above them. Why would they do that?” Astor asked.
“That is a good question. Though should we be asking why they are moving? Or, should we be asking what is moving them?” Zelestiana said, with concern written on her face.
“Oh no,” Astor whispered. “She wouldn’t be . . .”
“She’s hiding something from us. Something big,” Zelestiana whispered back. They both watched as An
gela Dragus the Righteous got closer to their perch, the extravagant strands of beautiful red silks now visible on her dress. Her face was elegant, the curves on it smooth, and her sleek silver hair danced behind her in the falling snow. Above her the tree branches moved out of the way, and after she passed, the branches crept back in above the path behind her.
“What is that?” Astor asked.
“I think she’s using some kind of invisibility to conceal whatever it is,” Zelestiana whispered, keeping her head low and covered. “I think I can make it so we can see through the invisibility.” She lowered her eyes and began to chant something that was nearly inaudible to Astor. Then, she lifted her head and stared straight at Angela Dragus the Righteous, chanting.
It then began to appear. A giant figure, laden with dull, gray armor. A giant head on a huge body. Heavy feet took giant steps in the snow. Zelestiana’s lip curled down with disdain. “Damn, an ogre.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
THE party was taking a quick break by a stream, drinking fresh water and talking about Astor and Zelestiana’s quest, when the sound of fast-moving horses came right at them. The group could not see the riders through the heavy woods.
“Ready!” Gildur yelled. Everyone was soon on their feet brandishing their weapons. Gildur held his two-handed broadsword. Gogenanth held out his large scimitar, four feet in length. Tilda raised her small crossbow, a long dagger hanging at her hip. Wollen held out a heavy, one-handed sword and in the other hand a shield with a stag’s head engraving on it. Xersha held two thin, curved swords. Gar held out a thin, dark sword and a small round silver shield. Zaan had his slaver’s sword ready. The long blade and silver tiger’s head shone in the sun.
There they stood, ready to fight whatever came through the woods. Zaan’s palms began to sweat. “Whoa! Gildur! Whoa!” Astor’s voice came through the trees.
“Lower your weapons!” Gildur yelled.
Two large horses came crashing through the brush and into the middle of the group. One horse was ghost white and the other a silky tan with white hooves. Astor and Zelestiana pulled back hard on the reins of the horses and both quickly dismounted.
“Zelestiana, tell me what you found,” Gildur asked immediately of her.
“We found Angela Dragus, and she is on foot, with a prisoner we presume to be Lily bound on horseback,” Zelestiana replied. “But in lieu of soldiers accompanying her, we found something much worse.” The group’s silence and anticipation was heavy. Astor’s head sunk. “She has herself an ogre. An ogre the size of a house.”
“An ogre?” Gogenanth asked in amazement. “How does she have an ogre with her?”
“I don’t know, but this one is enormous,” Astor said.
“Tell me about it,” Gildur said.
“Well, it is about two and half times taller than Gogenanth, with a massive head, slick black hair, and a giant, crooked mouth,” Astor said. “It has broad shoulders and a large midsection. It had thick legs and massive feet, and it carries an axe the size of a tree. Its shoulders were covered in heavy armor made from what, I do not know. It is a monster in every sense of the word. The most unique attribute of it is its arms, because it appears to have four of them. It has two big and muscular arms, and then it has two small slender arms below those.”
Gildur rubbed his beard. “I need to communicate this to Palanzal.” He walked over to the stream and sat in silence.
Wollen gawked. “What is he gonna do? Take the White Passage back to Barrier Cliff? That would take the better part of a day.”
“He is already talking with Palanzal, Wollen. Palanzal has the ability to communicate over great distances,” Tilda said.
Wollen snuffed and looked away.
Zaan was speechless. There had been a lot for him to take in very quickly. Not only were they about to fight a sorceress, but the sorceress had an ogre with four arms that was bigger than Gogenanth, by two at that! Now, he learned that Palanzal could talk to people from miles away.
A few minutes later, Gildur stood slowly and looked at the stream. The party waited in silence for him to return to them. He turned and walked back up to where they were and stood beside Zaan. “I have talked with Palanzal, and he believes he knows what this creature is. It is indeed an ogre, but not just any ogre. Its name is Reizenthrōgz, the Great Northern Ogre.” Most of the group seemed unfamiliar with its name, but those who had heard of him were shaken by the news. “It has killed scores of people.”
“I have heard of this beast. It has a lore about it,” Xersha said. “According to fables, it eats its victims.”
“I have heard this as well,” Astor said.
“This is no fable,” Gildur said firmly. “Somehow Angela Dragus the Righteous has acquired one of the deadliest creatures on Essill, and they are working together.”
“What do we do to fight such a monster?” Tilda asked. “Is there any hope to rescue Lily now?”
Gogenanth stepped forward. “Tilda, I will tell you what we do. We go and kill an ogre and its witch.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
“THE plan is simple,” Gildur said to the troop. His eyes were rough but clear; he had a stern, broad nose and strong brow. He was muscular, but not as large as Gogenanth or Wollen. There was no doubt he was the leader of this troop, though. He was a hardened commander. This surprised Zaan. Gildur had seemed a normal guy down in Auracity, who owned a forge and employed some people, but now he was about to lead some of Zaan’s best friends into a battle that seemed impossible to win.
“We are going to ambush Angela Dragus the Righteous and Reizenthrōgz where the Hillspring Trail opens out of the Yelden into the Aurburn Plains. We must stop them before they reach Garmos Castle, which is on the far end of the Aurburn. If they get there, Lily is as good as dead,” Gildur said. “Any questions?”
Wollen looked for something to add, but found nothing. Xersha then spoke. “Worst-case scenario, what if the girl dies?” Gogenanth looked sourly in her direction. “I’m asking, if she dies, is retreat the most valuable option?”
“Valuable?” Gogenanth asked.
“If Lily perishes, we will decide in that moment what the next phase is,” Gildur said. “We are already risking our lives greatly by meeting these foes on the battlefield. Xersha, if you wish to leave now, this may be your last chance.”
“No, I signed in on this. I’m ready,” she responded, pulling out her two blades. They flashed in the sunlight, and she twirled them around expertly, then sheathed them again as easily as she had drawn them.
“How do we fight an ogre and a sorceress?” Zaan asked. All eyes went on him.
“First and foremost, Zaan,” Gildur looked at him, “you and Gar stay as far away as possible from them. But it is a good question. An ogre is a strong monster, but dumb. Surrounding one will confuse it, but enrage it. Stabbing one in the back or back of the neck is good, but this one is tall. Do not get within arm’s reach of it unless you are sure you have an opportunity for a strike. Their legs are thick, and almost all muscle, so it’s difficult to bring one down—not to mention their hides are thick. Wait for the right moment, and strike hard and deep.”
“Don’t forget this one has four arms,” Xersha added.
“Four arms or ten, they all die the same,” Gogenanth said.
“Yes, Reizenthrōgz has four arms, not normal for an ogre, and that makes him more . . . difficult to kill,” Gildur said.
“Our best bet with Reizenthrōgz is to topple him over, and attack swiftly,” Astor said.
“Or hack and slash,” Xersha added.
“Aim for the neck, and face,” Gildur said. “We need to try to separate him from the sorceress and take them out separately, away from each other. You all take on the ogre; I will take on the sorceress myself.”
Confusion and awe lit the faces of the group, and a quiet concern hung in the air.
“Have you fought one before—a sorceress I mean?” Gar asked.
&nb
sp; “Yes,” Gildur answered with a stone face. Gar didn’t press further.
“We should go if we are to get to the mouth of the Yelden in time,” Tilda said.
“Yes, let’s move,” Gildur said, and the troop followed him north through the area opening up into the Aurburn Plains. They sprinted, huffing and puffing. Gildur and Zelestiana were mounted upon the two steeds. “We need to move faster. Drop everything but armor and weapons!” The clatter of luggage and equipment fell to the ground, and the group gained pace.
Ahead of them, they saw the forest end, and they proceeded cautiously to its lip. “Quiet. They may already be here,” Gildur said, looking back at the troop, then around the corner. “I don’t see them, but let’s move quickly and silently. Be ready for anything.” They continued behind him, hunching low and trying to stay out of sight.
Gildur stopped and made motions with his hands that didn’t make sense to Zaan, but everyone else nodded when he motioned to them. Then he pointed at Zaan. “This is as far as you go, Zaan. Tilda, stay here with them. Make sure they and you are safe and hidden.”
“But . . .” Zaan started.
“We can fight!” Gar said.
“Don’t,” Tilda said. “This was the plan all along.”
“Let’s move,” Gildur said. They were forty paces from the outlet of the Hillspring Trail into the Aurburn Plains. Zaan watched as they moved to each side of the mouth and then crept out of view. Zaan was startled by this for a moment, then assumed Gogenanth was using his Azulūz. Tilda held Zaan by the shoulder and pulled him into the tall, dead grass, and Gar followed. Hanging his head, Zaan felt a light snowflake fall and dissolve on his nose. A few minutes later, the air was thick with snow, like cotton floating down from the heavens.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE