Messenger of the Dark Prophet (The Bowl of Souls: Book Two)

by Cooley, Trevor H.

  The monster’s attack was effective. Out of the fifteen full wizards that stayed behind to battle the golem, only ten remained standing. Qyxal and Vannya were among several mages that had remained behind to help pull the wounded out of harms way and heal them as best as they could.

  Soon, the square was ablaze with fireballs and lightning strikes. With the smoke and flashes of light it was almost impossible to see. Arrows rained into the area where the golem had been standing. The shower of mortar and bricks thrown by the golem ceased.

  After a few moments Master Latva called the attackers to a halt. Smoke and the smell of burning vegetation filled the air. It was hard to see if the attacks had been successful.

  Then the silence was filled by an evil laugh and the golem charged out of the smoke roaring in defiance. Its body, once green and vibrant, was now blackened and smoking from the sheer power of the magical attacks and its frame was riddled with the burnt stumps of arrows. But the vitality contained in the golem remained undamaged. New bits of green began to sprout from its wounds.

  The sheer mass of the monster caused the road to crack beneath its feet as it approached the wizards. The guards continued to pelt it with arrows, but the wizards had been unprepared for the golem to survive their first assault. They hurriedly began preparing new spells.

  The golem was going to reach them before they were ready. Master Latva was about to send out a spell of his own when the elf mage Qyxal realeased his one offensive spell. The earth beneath the golem’s feet began to roil and shake, sending up a shower of rock and dust. The golem staggered to the side, giving the wizards the precious time they needed to prepare their next volley of spells.

  Justan was staring at the ragged hole left in the building where the golem had landed when he heard the screams and the sounds of the battle in the square. He ran towards the awful sounds as quickly as he could while limping along on his tired legs. He entered the south side of the square just as the golem charged out of the cloud of smoke.

  The wrongness of the destruction littering the square fanned the flames of anger already burning like a red-hot coal in Justan’s heart. In the back of his mind he could see Professor Beehn’s pale face as he lay dying in the wreckage of his home.

  He pulled an arrow back to his ear and Justan could hear the power humming satisfactorily from the golden string. Justan saw that the golem was getting too close to the wizards for comfort and prepared to fire, waiting for just the right moment. The Jharro bow was eager to strike. As the golem’s balance was interrupted by Qyxal’s spell, he released.

  The arrow hit the golem in the small of its back with concussive force, and knocked it sprawling into one of the fountains that surrounded the clock tower. The water hissed as the golem hit it, its body still smoldering from the fireballs the wizards had sent at it. As the beast tried to stand, Justan walked forward and sent another arrow into it, the force shoving it back into the water.

  The wizards had recovered at that point and lightning strikes hit the fountain, blasting apart the statue at the center of it and sending shock waves through the water, causing the golem to thrash about. Strike after strike slammed into the golem, amplified by the water surrounding it. The smell of burnt wood and ozone filled the air and the golem grew still. It laid in the fountain face down, the water covering most of its mass.

  A cheer erupted from the guards and work immediately renewed to get the square clean of wounded. Justan switched to his mage sight. He could see the ebb and flow of the magic in the plant golem. The creature still pulsed with immense power. But it was weakened and the flow of magic within it was fractured, running in awkward directions. He rushed across the mangled pavement to the wizards that were standing in the center of the square. He headed for Master Latva who stood nearby also watching the golem with concern. Qyxal beat him there.

  “I think we damaged it, Headmaster,” Qyxal said, but he must have been watching with his mage sight too. With a start, he pointed. “Wait! It’s absorbing strength from the water!”

  Master Latva reacted quickly and raised his hands, sending a swirl of energy into the water, freezing the fountain solid. Qyxal breathed a sigh of relief as the power levels of the golem became muted. The elf bowed to the headmaster and went to help Vannya and the other mages care for the wounded.

  Justan nodded in satisfaction and turned towards the headmaster. “Master Latva, I think that I might be able to explain what happened here.”

  “Yes, son? Go ahead.” The wrinkles of sadness and frustration faded from the ancient wizard’s eyes for a moment. He placed a hand on Justan’s shoulder. “I think we could all use an explanation about now. Somehow I’m not surprised that you are the one to offer it.”

  The other wizards present gathered around to hear.

  Justan didn’t have time to speak further before the fountain exploded. The golem erupted into motion again. Ice shards flew everywhere, pelting the square. Justan instinctively covered Master Latva with his body and his head rang as an ice chunk glanced off the back of his skull. His ears buzzed and his vision blurred.

  The golem stumbled out of the remains of the fountain a gruesome sight. Its body was still blackened in spots, but bright green sprouted from it in other places. Black filth and slime oozed from the wounds in its body and fell to the ground with clumps of melting ice. The golem’s head showed the worst effects from the battle. Arrow stumps and burn marks covered its visage and there was a vivid pulsing crack running the length of its face. Along the crack a writhing line of roots reached out, joining with one another and pulling as if to heal the scar. Deep within that ravaged face glowed two eyes that burned with madness.

  The guards realized that the wizards were not yet ready to continue the battle. Half of them made a perimeter around the wizards, led by Zambon, who looked like he ached to be charging the beast head on. The other half charged at the beast hacking away at it with swords and axes. Foremost among the guards to attack were two mighty warriors: Riveren and the leader of the guards, Alphonze.

  The guards took up what was known as The Behemoth Strategy. This was the strategy taught by the academy for use when fighting a creature much bigger, stronger, and slower than you were. The idea was to dart in and strike, then dart back out of the way of the monster’s fists, so that your companions could attack it from the rear.

  This strategy was only partially effective in this case because the golem was too crazed and erratic. It wasn’t following any particular pattern, just flailing its limbs about randomly at anything that got within its range. Any blow that the golem landed, even if only a glancing hit, was devastating.

  Five guards fell or were knocked across the square before they wisely pulled back. Riveren and Alphonze continued to hack away at the powerful golem. Their strikes did little if any damage, but they were determined. Riveren with his heavy axe scarred the legs and body of the golem, while Alphonze using his dual hand-ax style, hacked away at its knees. They figured that if they could take away the golem’s mobility, then the wizards could easily destroy it. Their work was done in perfect harmony, keeping the golem off balance and distracted.

  The golem roared and laughed madly as it swung its gigantic fists and legs out in an attempt to destroy the puny things that irritated it. Riveren knew that his attacks weren’t very effective. Then something caught his eye and he saw a better tactic.

  He looked to his commander. Alphonze met his gaze and knew what Riveren was thinking. With a slight nod, the leader of the guards gave Riveren the okay to make the attack.

  Alphonze went into a flurry of moves, leaping and striking at the golem, getting its full attention. Riveren slipped behind the mad beast. He knew that his previous attacks were ineffective and only saw one flaw, the great crack in the golem’s head. Alphonze’s distraction was giving him the time he needed to do this just right. If he messed up he knew that he would probably die.

  Alphonze darted in and out of the golem’s reach, concentrating fully on keeping the monster
occupied while Riveren finished his attack. It took every ounce of skill he had to keep out of its reach. Then as he was leaping away, the golem lunged forward and caught him by the leg.

  The beast roared in triumph and lifted its prize into the air in front of it. Alphonze looked into the golem’s hideous eyes without fear, swinging his hand axe again and again into its face, severing tentacle-like roots.

  The guards and wizards gasped, seeing the peril that the leader was in, when Riveren made his move. Riveren ran up behind the golem and jumped up, using its hip as a spring point. With both hands over his head, the guard put all of his considerable strength into one mighty chop. His heavy weapon sank several inches into the back of the golem’s head.

  The golem screamed and swung around, whipping Alphonze about like a rag doll. Riveren dropped to the ground behind it and scampered away on all fours. The crack on the golem’s head had widened, now stretching around to the place where Riveren’s ax had sunk in. The golem saw Riveren escaping and threw Alphonze. The leader of the guards narrowly missed, flying past Riveren to smash into the base of one of the fountains with a sickening crunch.

  Justan watched the whole scene with horror, unable to fire for fear of hitting the guards. He had sparred with Alphonze many times and really liked the man. He shook away the pain in his head and sent an arrow streaking for the golem. It struck the monster between the eyes, sinking in until only the fletchings showed. The force of the strike sent the golem stumbling back to smash against the clock tower.

  Arrows and spears and magical attacks blasted it against the magically strengthened walls of the tower. The magic holding the golem together gradually unraveled and its madness was complete. The beast saw only one thing and that was the symbol of order in front of it. The clock tower.

  With a roar of outrage, it ignored the wizards and attacked the lines of magic strengthening the structure with all the chaotic magic it could muster. The golem pounded the clock tower with its mighty fists over and over until a great crack shot up the side. The thirty-foot-tall structure began to sway.

  The wizards shouted out in warning, and the guards darted out of the way, pulling injured comrades with them as they went. Riveren and Zambon called several men over and they carefully carried away their fallen leader.

  The golem ignored the fleeing humans and continued its insane attack on the massive tower. Another of Justan’s arrows hit it in the back of the head and smashed it forward into the tower again, a chunk of wood and moss and writhing roots fell from its head, but it just kept pounding away. The clock tower looked on the verge of collapse and people ran away in every direction.

  Master Latva grasped Justan’s arm as he was about to shoot his final arrow. “Child, this is useless. We cannot destroy this beast with conventional weapons. With a golem this powerful we need a proper complement of magical items to dismiss the thing completely. Golems are built with magic and can only be defeated by magic. To destroy it, we need a magical weapon.”

  “But this is a magical weapon.” Justan argued, hefting his bow.

  “Yes,” Latva conceded. “But the arrows you are shooting are not and they are what actually strikes the golem.” He held out his hand. “Give me your arrow.”

  Justan handed it over. Master Latva grabbed Qyxal and another wizard that was standing by. Together they chanted over the arrow and with his mage sight, Justan could see a tremendous amount of magical energy made up of all four elements being poured into it. Master Latva then handed it back to him.

  “This arrow was not properly treated to make a lasting enchantment when it was built so make it quick before it blows up in our faces. Strike for the center of the beast.” The golem continued its assault on the tower. Sparks shot from the clocks at the top.

  Justan pulled the string to his ear and along with the usual hum of power from the string and eagerness from the bow, came a low rumbling of barely contained energy from the arrow. He tried to focus in but had a hard time concentrating. All of the stress and anger and sorrow of the day took its toll. The faces of friends and people he knew that had been hurt or killed on this day floated through Justan’s mind. Finally, he took a deep breath, sighted up the arrow on the golem’s back, and let go.

  The arrow moved with blurring speed, a streak of light flying behind it like a small comet. The missile plunged into the golem’s back and an explosion rocked the square. The unnatural creation of chaos blew apart. Pieces shot in every direction.

  Moments later, before the smoke even cleared, the base of the clock tower gave way and the thirty-foot-tall structure fell to the ground, taking out one of the side buildings and covering the square in rubble.

  There was silence. As the dust and debris cleared from the air, Justan and the wizards stared at the collapsed tower with horror. They should have felt triumph at the defeat of such a powerful evil, but the toll taken was far too high. There was a solemn mood as the inhabitants of the MageSchool went about healing their wounded.

  Master Latva placed a hand on Justan’s shoulder. “Thank you, child. I am glad you are with us.”

  “I know who created that monster,” Justan said. “Pympol, Arcon, and Piledon. They said something about it being Pympol’s wizard project. Of course it could all be a moot point now. He might be dead. The golem had struck him down when I last saw him.”

  Master Latva placed a hand on his wrinkled forehead and sighed. “I knew that boy was a little overzealous with the secrecy on his project. He’s had his problems in the past and he knew that he would have to do something pretty remarkable to be allowed to take the wizard trials next year.” The old man took his hat off, releasing a white shock of hair, and scratched his head. “Why couldn’t he just have written a paper?”

  Justan looked at the destruction in the main square, usually a symbol of precision and order, and felt deep sorrow. “I, I am sorry, sir. I feel like I should have been able to do something to keep the golem from getting this far.”

  “Such are the burdens that we all carry today.” A kindly smile pierced the sorrow on the old man’s face and his eyes sparked with vitality. “Worry not about it now. Come to the third floor of the Rune tower in an hour. At that time, we will piece together this puzzle.”

  Justan left the master with questions running through his mind. Where were Arcon and Piledon anyway? He had told them to come and warn everyone of the golem’s approach. Where had they been while the golem was destroying the school grounds?

  Vannya finished mending a guardsman’s arm and looked up to see Justan walking by deep in thought. He had a nasty gash on the back of his head that was still bleeding. She walked over to him and grasped his arm.

  “Justan, are you okay?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.

  Justan took one look at her pretty face and flinched. The last thing he needed right then was to see her. “Leave me alone, Vannya. I’m not in the mood for you.”

  She looked at him as if she had no idea what he was talking about. This ignited his anger even more. He knew that she didn’t really care for him. How could she put on this act when she had wounded friends and comrades about? Had she no shame?

  “Justan, you are bleeding,” she pointed out. “Let me heal you-“

  “My wound will heal just fine on its own! What about that man there? He has a broken leg, why aren’t you helping him? You should get your priorities straight.”

  He pulled away from her and tried to pretend that he didn’t see the hurt in her eyes as he broke away. He knew it was all an act. He couldn’t allow himself to care. That would just be playing into Valtrek’s hands.

  Justan stormed away, deciding to go to the infirmary to check on his friends and see if there was anything he could do to help. He began to jog and nearly tripped over a large chunk of wreckage in the road. He started to pick it up and toss it to the side, but jerked his hand back as if he had just tried to pet a giant spider. The thing he had nearly tripped on was the golem’s head.

  It looked up at him si
lently, the remains of its hideous face frozen in a rictus of joy. It seemed as pleased with the chaos of its death as it had been with its creation.

  Chapter Ten

  The sun sank low over the horizon in the Five Hills region. A cool breeze from the north replaced the humid heat of the day pulling a sigh of relief from the stream of people exhausted after a long day working at the quarry. The people of this land found few such moments of relief. In the past, they had always been ruled with a light hand, their day-to-day lives relatively free. Things had changed.

  King Andre Muldroomon had appointed a new ruler over that part of the kingdom. Five Hills was now under the rule of the new duke, the king’s advisor Ewzad Vriil. The town was on the very outskirts of the dukedom and he had only ruled over it for six months, but he had already instituted drastic changes.