by Dan O'Brien
She had begun to tremble beneath his grip.
Her whimpering had risen to a frightful cry.
“Mah’goe,” she whispered.
Her words were a bleak squeak.
E’Malkai’s ears perked up at her words, but he did not take his eyes from the beast. “What did you say?”
“Mah’goe,” she repeated, though slower this time.
E’Malkai’s frowned deepened.
“What in the name of the Creator is a Mah’goe?”
She pointed out with her other hand, over his shoulder, at the lumbering beast that edged toward them. “That is a Mah’goe,” she replied with a stammer.
The Mah’goe roared.
The volume of its voice shook the cavern.
Both E’Malkai and Arivene fell back, their hands clasped over their ears. Their faces were contorted in pain as the creature bounded toward them. Its massive fists slammed into the earth around Arivene, her scream lost amongst another bellow.
It scooped her up as if she were weightless.
E’Malkai had been thrown clear of the beast as the fists had struck the earth. The sheer power of the blow lifted him from the ground and into the retaining wall. He shook off the blinding pain that echoed in his mind and saw the peril that had overtaken his guide.
The creature’s jaws were wide open, monstrous nostrils sniffing at the girl. It blew snot upon her silk dress. Spittle and saliva sluiced from fang to fang and then onto his lips, eventually making the trip to the ground beneath as it surveyed Arivene. Its head was shaped like a wedge, drawn to a snout and rows of sharp, massive teeth were etched back into its jaws. A pair of dark black horns rose from the top of its skull and curved back against its scalp like tufts of hair.
E’Malkai pushed himself from the ground shakily, immediately drawing the attention of the creature. Its horrendous greenish-black eyes watched the youth; the lingering webs of saliva licked away as it stalked toward him with a single bound.
He pulled the planedge from his side, the only thing he could think to do. It proved useless as the creature swatted him across the torso with the back of its monstrous hand, sending him crashing across the tunnel into another wall.
Groaning as he tried to open his eyes through the pain, E’Malkai coughed hard. As he managed to open his eyes, he heard her scream again. He tried to push himself from the wall and succeeding only in falling flat on his face. The blade skittered from his grip and sprawled into the darkness. He swore beneath his breath as he pushed himself to his feet and stumbled.
His tunic was ripped.
Bloody lines marked his clothing where he had come into contact with the sharp rocks along the wall. The stench of the Mah’goe was reminiscent of an unholy bog and it washed over E’Malkai like a wave of nausea as he searched the floor to find his father’s weapon.
The creature swung its long arm across the tunnel and slung Arivene against the wall. A strangled cry escaped her lips as her eyes rolled over to white. The Mah’goe lowered its body closer to the ground and opened its jaws, a ferocious howl rumbling over the rocky halls. Its claws and arms were long enough that as it reached out it dragged the tips of its talons against the walls.
A shower of sparks accompanied the scratches.
E’Malkai backed away.
He could see the glint of the steel in the shadows and cursed himself for losing his father’s planedge. The creature’s green eyes watched him freeze like a cornered animal.
The claw lashed out again, tearing a ragged line across the wall where E’Malkai had been. The youth had rolled beneath, the brunt of the fist making contact and knocking him aside, but the razor edges of the talons had missed and found a home in the wall.
A cloud of smoke filled the enclosure as the Mah’goe pulled its claw free. This time it swung its mammoth fist across the tunnel to where E’Malkai hid, finding its mark.
The energy was a ripple a first, a shiver along his spine.
He looked up as the Mah’goe pulled away. Its grotesque features watched the youth, seeing the vein of energy as it crawled across E’Malkai’s eyes.
The creature growled and stepped back.
It sniffed the air as it backed away, past the crumpled figure of Arivene and then into the darkness. Lightning danced down his body, crackling the earth beneath as he stepped toward the Mah’goe. Energy flowed over him in the wake of his sudden power.
E’Malkai knelt beside the disheveled Arivene and gently lifted her head, cradling her neck as he did so. Her eyes were closed, mouth agape. His arm glowed, twisted strands of emerald intertwined with white as he brushed back her hair.
“Arivene,” he whispered, looking over his shoulder.
The eyes had disappeared into the shadows once more.
They were alone.
Her head bobbed, her eyes fluttered beneath her eyelids. She swallowed and then stirred, her eyes opening slightly as she did. Her head rolled and then her eyes opened as awareness came back to her. There was a distant look in her eyes as she first looked at the youth. The tendrils of energy made him look far more surreal than he actually was.
“E’Malkai?”
The youth smiled as he looked down at her. Pulling back on the mental hold of his energy, he made it recede back into the depths of him. “You are okay now, Arivene.”
She sat upright, her eyes staring off into the darkness.
“The Mah’goe?”
He smiled again as he pulled his hands away so that she could stand up once more. “Gone, Arivene. It fled back into the darkness.” She steadied herself against the wall, her wide eyes watching the shadows. “Tell me about the Mah’goe,” spoke E’Malkai with an even tone.
She turned away from the darkness. “Did you kill it?”
E’Malkai shook his head, his arms folded across his chest.
“How did you get it to leave?” she smiled.
He knew she was baiting him.
He reached out with his hand, turning it as he drew out the power of the Creator. “The energy spikes when I am hurt, or when the rage overtakes me and I cannot keep it back any longer. Seeing you hurt, and the impossible situation that we had been thrust into, called it forth. The Mah’goe saw this, tucked tail, and disappeared into the shadows,” explained E’Malkai, withdrawing the energy as quickly as it had come.
Her scowl returned as she glowered at E’Malkai.
“You are more powerful than the others had said, even more powerful than I had felt. You should not have used your power within the halls of the Kien’jedai,” she scolded.
“Why? I though you said this place was a sanctuary?”
She closed her eyes and nodded.
“Yes, that much is true. Those who dwell within the Kien’jedai do not pose a threat to a mortal, such as you, who just walks absently through their domain. Using your power was sending out a beacon to which all will be drawn.”
E’Malkai swallowed his amusement and realized the consequences of his error. “The Mah’goe would have killed us both. I saved our lives.”
Her serious gaze was unfazed by his reasoning. “For now perhaps, but you may have called down far greater adversaries instead of a mindless Mah’goe,” she retorted unkindly. She turned as if to go, but the youth stood his ground, clearing his throat to get her attention.
“Not one more step until you answer my question.”
The sigh was possessed of a dark wisdom that should not be uttered. Both the youth and the guide knew that, but sometimes truth won out over reason. “The Mah’goe are creatures of Dok’Turmel. Their origins are unique. The Emperor, the dark lord who you spoke of…”
“Me’Cheng.”
She did not glare at him as she had before, but E’Malkai knew that she wished to. “Yes, Emperor Me’Cheng had a son, a vile incarnation much like himself who was bent as well on the domination of both Dak’Tan and U’Mor. He knew that within Dok’Turmel were two weapons that he could use in his conquest.”
E’Malkai nodded, looking away as he spoke.
>
“Me’Cheng and the Grove.”
She nodded. “Precisely. They were the two pieces of a rather perverse game that the Emperor’s son wished to play. The Shaman who you know was once called…”
“Ti’ere’yuernen,” finished E’Malkai with a smile.
She placed her hands on her hips, as she had done before in annoyance, and fixed the youth with an equally annoyed glare. “Would you care to finish the story?”
E’Malkai shook his hands, feigning fear of her wrath.
“As I was saying, Ti’ere’yuernen had brothers born of the same power, not truly kin by blood, but by charge. They left behind the Shaman to guard an ancient power: the very power that you now journey for. The Emperor’s son was a callous and determined man much like his father and though he could not find the Shaman, he instead found the other conjurers who had fled. He used them to find the original opening that they had breached in order to allow Ti’ere’yuernen safe passage.”
E’Malkai’s face slackened, a raw fear flowing over him.
She saw the fear and nodded. “The Emperor’s son used the army of the great Walled City of the Forgotten Realm, the one that Lord Darien once had dominion over, and walked through the tear into Dok’Turmel and marched on the Kien’jedai.”
“By the Believer,” whispered E’Malkai in horror.
“He succeeded in entering Dok’Turmel and lost many men traversing the Dead Sands. He was able to reach the Outer Circle, which even to this day cannot be explained. Upon entering the Outer Circle, the guardians there defended their position until the last man.”
E’Malkai’s brow wrinkled in confusion.
“That does not explain the Mah’goe.”
She held up a hand for patience. “I was getting to that. For a Creator, you are rather impatient. The Emperor’s son brought Umordoc into Dok’Turmel, and then into the Outer Circle. In doing so, he condemned them to madness. They fled from formation and ran into the hills; some came here into the Kien’jedai. They were transformed into the Mah’goe, infused with the souls of the dead warriors who had marched with the Emperor’s son.”
E’Malkai whistled; the sound echoed off the walls.
“Quite a story.”
“To call upon the power of a Creator of the Light in front of a Mah’goe is to spit in the face of the Dark Emperor Me’Cheng. What you have done is announce your presence to the one being who you would not have wished to ever have the displeasure of meeting,” she spoke, her anger visceral.
“How could I have known?”
She stood tall. It was a regal quality that she had not possessed when she was mortal. “You are Lord E’Malkai, bearer of the greatest of all powers. You should have thought before you acted, as even the weakest of your kind would have.”
She crossed her arms underneath her breasts again, placing her weight on one leg over the other. The youth was drawn to the sexuality of her stance as opposed to the anger of it, and found himself blushing as he met her eyes once more with a sheepish grin.
He spread in his arms in a defeated posture, his palms facing her. “I am sorry that I did not think before acting, Arivene, it was foolish of me. Please accept my apology,” he replied as sincerely as he could muster.
She searched his eyes.
Scrutinizing his sincerity, she then sighed, veneer defeated. “Enough of this. The gateway is just ahead, around the next bend. What awaits you there is far more powerful and gruesome than the Mah’goe. You would do well to remember that you are not yet as powerful as you wish.”
E’Malkai watched as Arivene glanced back over her shoulder and then disappeared into the surrounding darkness. The echo of her words made them appear darker. He remained in the shadow as her words faded into silence and pondered what waited for him ahead.
ⱷ
Illigard
The sound of soldiers’ voices was barely audible over the heavy hammering that seemed to inundate Illigard. The outer wall no longer looked as barren as it once had. There were hollowed-out pieces of mortar and stone that served as archer’s posts. The three sides that did not face the mountain boasted close to a thousand archers and five times that many infantry who waited for the inevitable breaking of stone that would announce the siege of their home. The ditch that surrounded the outpost on three sides was widened, though it could not be deepened as commanded because of the waist-deep frozen water that filled it.
Dark black snow marred each bank.
The embankments were more than twenty feet in width. Pitfalls had been dug in sporadic increments to ensnare the ground forces who would attempt the initial crossing. The mighty oaken door of Illigard had been reinforced on the other side by leaning posts dug deep into the earth.
The common grounds that stood between the buildings were barren. Snow had been worn into wet ground; the melted ice on the boots of the soldiers who manned the walls was proof enough that the land had been walked many times.
Snow storms had turned into slush storms that drenched soldiers and animals alike. There was a strange silence over the whole affair, boots stamped and hammers rang as they were put to metal and stone. The war room had been emptied and most of the barracks as well. Tents had been erected; there was doubt the buildings would last the siege.
T’elen and Arile stood along the northern wall, watching as soldiers committed to their tasks with stoic determination. Already they could see the approaching forces, distant shadows on the horizon. T’elen could hear Xi’iom’s words and knew them to be true; had they marched they would have been obliterated, crushed underfoot by the massive force that was the Culouth Commerce Army.
The tundra people had refused to stay within the walls and instead had scaled the westernmost wall of Illigard and set up camp in the mountain cliffs. Arile had chosen to stay, the only of the tundra people to not abandon Illigard for open territory. “You should not worry about my people,” he spoke, not bothering to look at the worn features of the Field Marshal.
“They are brave warriors, much stronger than many of the men who walk these walls. I only worry that they could have been of greater help within Illigard than trying to ambush a much larger force from the cliffs.”
She did not look at the hunter and instead laced her hands behind her back. They passed by soldiers who were leaning against the walls, their rifles draped over their knees and the hoods of their coats pulled tight to fight the cold.
Arile stopped and looked up, watching as a platform was carefully delivered to the top of the wall via a crudely constructed pulley system. Quivers and bows were mixed in with other weapons: spears, swords, and the like. There were plastic-wrapped bundles of rations, an expectation of a prolonged attack. “We of the north are most comfortable fighting our enemies in the open, not from behind walls.”
T’elen nodded as they passed another pack of soldiers, their conversation quieting as the Field Marshal and the white hunter lingered nearby. “With that said, why do you stay among us?”
She stole a quick glance at the angular features of the hunter. He held his head up high, part of his cloak moving aside. For the first time she realized that he carried more than the spear strapped along his back. There was the tail end of a bow and quiver, as well as more browned leather sheaths than she could count.
“I am accustomed to fighting on many fronts. E’Malkai of the South was worried about you and his mother. I thought it best that I stay behind to watch the both of you as a favor to him.”
T’elen smiled slightly, the muscles of her neck and face sore from the cold weather. “He asked you to do this?”
Arile shook his head.
“No, Lady T’elen. I believe his intention was understood.”
The northern stretch of the wall was bisected by an additional wall, one that was meant to serve as another shelter if perimeter defenses were breached.
Elcites leaned against the corner.
The edged weapon that he had used at the Eddies was gripped firmly in his hands, arms folded over his
chest. Fairhair stood close to Leane. Xi’iom remained impassive, his features not giving away the swell of pride he felt for being right about the advance of the Culouth soldiers.
Arile bowed curtly to each and found a place up against the stone as the sleet began to beat down once more. This time it was laced with the frosty touch of ice and snow, but still more of a hazard than the snow itself had ever been.
T’elen crowded beneath the diminutive overhang that sheltered the others. A fire worked itself in the corner opposite the Umordoc guardian. Its flickering edges seemed to reach out to the blowing snow, tempting it.
“I’m sure you have heard of the host that marches upon us,” she began, blowing a column of cold air as she took another breath. “There have, as well, been sightings of fire trail in the sky just above them. It seems their most powerful piece is in play once more.”
Fairhair shifted beside Leane, making sure to stay within her sphere of influence. “Why has the cold placed a burden on the machines? We have used them in the past to travel in the winter. Why now?” he queried, looking to Leane to see if she returned his gaze.
She did not.
Elcites pushed himself from the wall, making the multi-edged blade disappear within the maze of sheaths along his back. “The cold of the north has crossed the northern marker. We have never experienced a penetrating cold such as this. They say that the cold that lives in the north seeks only death.”
“The winds,” muttered Arile as he pulled the collar of his cloak closer to his neck and looked out along the wall line.
T’elen turned to him. “What about the winds?”
Sighing, he knelt close to the fire, crossing his legs beneath him as he sat beside it. He held his hands out for warmth. “The winds say that the energy of the old markers has failed. The energy that separated the tundra from everything else has been breached and the magicks are what have brought such a season upon us. It is the taint of the Gagnion’Fe’rein that ails the machines,” spoke Arile without turning.
They all looked at the back of Arile with varied glances; some with confusion and some speculation. In the case of Fairhair, it was anger. “Are we really going to believe that this inferior mind of the north speaks to the winds and has brought us a divine message?” he snapped, his tone startling the others.