by Sam Ferguson
‘“Home is where you decide it to be,’ Ravenel countered.
‘“We are not nomads,’ Lirian argued. ‘To move north would be to offer ourselves as slaves to the mighty kings and tribes of the north. To go east would be to die by the claw and fang of the Khattuun. We have no ships capable of assisting with a mass exodus, and it would take months to reach the sea. Besides, the garunda and shade would hunt us down as we fled. Tell me, where are we to go?’
“Ravenel stopped in mid-step and looked down to the floor with a great sigh. He could sense the feeling of desperation within Lirian’s voice, and he well understood the plight of the city and vassal towns that belonged to the tribe. Within his mind two voices were heard, one urging him to defend those weaker than he, and the other seemed to be shouting for him to run far away from this dark place. He closed his eyes as he sorted out the possible consequences of his actions. In the back of his mind came the nagging notion that none of the nearby tribal lords would be likely to send aid, despite the alliance, and he knew the townsfolk had no place to flee to. Lirian was correct. If he refused to help, then no one else would.
‘“There is no one else,’ Lirian repeated, as if she was confirming Ravenel’s thoughts. ‘We are prepared to pay you three fold the usual price for a dragon’s bounty.’”
Leatherback snarled. “They hunt dragons?” he hissed. “How much do they pay for one like me?” The anger in his voice was not lost on the young apprentice.
Kyra blushed and quickly turned the page. She had been so wrapped up in the story that she had forgotten to skip that part. She reached out and stroked Leatherback’s neck. “Don’t think on it, Leatherback. No one will hunt you, I promise.”
Leatherback rolled his head to the side on the grass, growling softly. “Continue story,” he said after a moment.
Kyra skipped over the part that detailed the payment before continuing. “Ravenel turned back around to face the woman and, despite his fears, within moments he found his head nodding in agreement with her. ‘You said you had a map for me to use in finding the cave,’ Ravenel said dryly.
“Lirian nodded. She moved to the table beside her throne and picked up a rolled parchment. ‘The path is marked for you,’ she said. Ravenel took the map. He unrolled it, studied the markings, and then rolled it again and shoved it into his satchel. ‘May the gods protect you,’ Lirian offered.
‘“Perhaps you failed to notice, but the gods abandoned us two centuries ago,’ Ravenel said flatly. He then left without another word. As he opened the door to step out into the full, late-morning sunlight, he was greeted by a crowd of people. Some of them he recognized as members of Lirian’s court, others were faces he didn’t recognize. Most were women, though there were a few older men and some children in the group as well. They all clamored for him, begging him to deliver them from their plight.
‘“I am no savior,’ Ravenel said under his breath as he pushed through the pressing throng. He left the city as quickly as he could, escaping the pleading and wailing masses as he finally made it beyond the outer walls of the city. He followed the roads that led east, then turned sharply north when he reached the pine forest of Goresthin. He walked along a babbling brook, stopping only for a few moments to drink from the cool, crystalline waters and eat a mouthful of bread and dried apricots that he had packed in his satchel.
“The evening light fell darkly upon the hills before the mountains, barely lighting the way for Ravenel as he carefully climbed up the rocky, dry riverbed that led to the cave. He looked up at the waning light through the trees and sighed. He had hoped to reach the lair before the beasts woke to prowl. Along the trail he found scattered bones and large piles of droppings, the sure tell-tale signs of a predator in the area. He stopped to examine the leg bone of a deer and ran his fingers through the grooves.
‘“That’s some set of teeth,’ he remarked as he set the bone back on the ground. He readied his bow in his left hand and pulled one arrow out of his quiver, sticking it in his teeth for quick retrieval while he pulled another arrow and held it to the string.”
“He has no magic,” Leatherback commented, a hint of concern in his voice.
Kyra smiled and shushed Leatherback so she could continue reading. “Another twenty minutes of picking his way up the slope over the lichen-covered rocks in the fading light brought him to a large, black hole that led into the side of the mountain like an ever-open mouth waiting to swallow the unwary. Ravenel felt a shiver run down his spine when he heard the wind howl through the cave, but he shrugged it off quickly, knowing that he had work to do. He crouched low next to a waist-high boulder and scanned the area around him before setting his bow down to reach for his satchel.
“First he pulled out a mini crossbow, made similar to the design an elf warrior might use, with vine and leaf patterns etched into the sides. The weight and balance of the crossbow were of such fine craftsmanship that the weapon could be wielded very quickly and with the utmost precision to deliver a powerful, deadly punch to almost any of the lesser beasts in the realm, despite the fact that it was only a fraction of the size of a normal crossbow. Ravenel had even used this same crossbow to slay a frost bear with a single bolt to the head.
“He rigged the mini crossbow to a harness that enabled him to hang it over the back of his left shoulder for easy access, and a bandolier of bolts, filled with various poisons and toxins, crossed over his chest to ensure easy loading of the deadly weapon.”
Leatherback sighed woefully. “Poisons will not work on the shade. We know that from the book Cyrus gave you before.”
Kyra nodded. “Yes, but this tale has a secret that Masters of Shadow did not tell us.”
Leatherback purred and a slight grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Then read on, and tell me.”
Kyra smiled and continued where she had left off. “Then, once the mini crossbow was secure, he reached for the trusty hand-axe that hung from his belt. The blade gleamed as he turned its silvery steel to the side and applied sticky oil to the blade. It was a toxin from the rubosia tenedera flower, a powerful paralyzing agent that he had used on large beasts of prey in the past. Once the oil was in place, Ravenel turned the axe over in his hand and inspected its workmanship. His lips curled upwards in a smile as he read the dwarven runes inscribed along the steel neck.”
“Dwarves!” Leatherback said excitedly. Ever since they had finished reading Ascension, one of the five books in the Chronicles of the Dragons of Kendualdern, Leatherback was always excited when he heard about dwarves.
“Shush, or I’ll never finish the story on time,” Kyra reprimanded.
“Sorry,” Leatherback grunted.
Kyra hid her grin behind the book as she peeked over the top just enough to see the frustration on Leatherback’s face. She had never had a little brother, but she had often imagined that a small brother would act much like Leatherback. A squirmy, impatient soul trapped in a body he could not yet fully control, who never knew when to sit and be still. The only problem was, this particular body was the size of a small house, and tipped with claws and fangs, and that was to say nothing of his ability to fly or breathe fire.
“Continue story,” Leatherback grumbled.
Kyra’s cheeks reddened and she ducked back behind the pages to make sure Leatherback wouldn’t catch her grinning at him, then she continued. “As if sensing the impending battle, a howl came from deep within the cave, reminding Ravenel that he had not the luxury of time. He quickly hung his hand-axe back on his belt. Rotating the strap of a satchel slung over his right should that held several daggers and other useful items, he pulled the satchel to rest in his lap and removed two vials of flammable oil. He was quick to put a small strip of cloth in each glass vial and then tuck them gingerly into his belt for future use. Ravenel then checked his tinder kit to ensure his striker was easily accessible. He tucked it into his pocket and then he grabbed his bow and stalked off into the cave.
“Each step inside the cave came slow and delibe
rate as Ravenel searched the darkness before him, refusing to be caught unawares by the likes of a garunda beast. He smelled the foul, musty stench of mold and blood, a most pungent odor that almost had him gagging. He pushed on, pausing whenever he heard an echoing growl from deeper in the cave.
“Deftly he avoided the piles of bones randomly discarded in different areas of the cave. As he went deeper, he discovered signs of human victims as well. He found a dismembered leg here, a bloody, dented helmet there, and the odd shield or discarded sword. Judging by the remains, he guessed there must have been at least fifty to try their luck against the garunda.
“Minutes later the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and a shiver formed goose bumps over his arms. Something moved nearby. There were heavy footfalls on the stone floor nearby, a black form slinked by him, and he spotted red eyes gleaming at him in the darkness. He brought out the striker and lit the cloth attached to one of the oil vials. He threw the vial in the direction of the eyes and watched with glee as the glass shattered and spewed flame all around the cave.
“The giant beast opened its feline mouth, emitting a low growl as it stalked into the circle of light. Ravenel’s eyes widened when the garunda bared its saber-like fangs in a roar that all but deafened the large archer. The cat was easily at least six hundred pounds, more than any Khattuun he had ever fought, or any mountain cat he had ever heard of. Spikes jutted out from the beast’s shoulders, and its skin rippled taut over thick, corded muscles. There was no fur on the demon; it was just a black mass of twisted muscle and fangs.
“Ravenel knew he had to act while the firelight still blinded the beast. He brought the bow up and pulled the arrow back. He loosed the arrow with blinding speed, and the shaft buried deep into the beast’s neck. The garunda shuddered and leapt back away from the hero, landing squarely in the burning oil.
“The beast shook its head wildly and screeched a shrill wail as it batted at the flames with its massive paws. Ravenel didn’t miss a beat. He loosed the second arrow, piercing the other side of the garunda’s neck. Then he stepped in quickly, slicing and striking furiously with his axe across the cat’s right side. Lines of green blood appeared on the obsidian body, but it did little to stem the beast’s fury. In an instant, the cat reared back on its hind legs as it stood and roared, as a bear might do, then it sent a pulse of magical energy that knocked Ravenel backward through the air, smashing him against the stone wall.
“Ravenel shook his head in an attempt to regain his senses. He was still standing, barely, and he had even managed to keep a strong hold on his bow and axe. The cat leapt through the air, fangs bared and claws out. Ravenel somersaulted to the left, slashing out with his axe and catching the garunda in the right foreleg. The beast howled and crashed into the wall head-first. It turned, growling wickedly and lowering its head with its black ears flat against its skull. It took two steps forward and then started to twitch violently. Ravenel could see the muscles cramping in sharp spasms and knew immediately that the paralyzing toxin was beginning to work on the monster. Ravenel dropped the axe and quickly nocked another arrow. He fired upon the beast one, two, and then three times before the garunda fell to the ground. It yowled and wailed horribly, but it could no longer move. Ravenel grabbed his axe and ran in to finish the beast with a quick chop to the neck.
“Green, acidic blood spurted out from the wound and burned Ravenel’s hand. Quickly he scraped the ooze off with the back of one of his knives so as not to spread the viscous goo further on his skin.
“No sooner had he done so than a second garunda appeared in the chamber with him. The cat slowly circled around, hunkering low and ready to spring at any moment. It started to jump to Ravenel’s right, but when Ravenel moved to dodge, the garunda switched directions and lunged directly where Ravenel had stepped. Ravenel just barely managed to escape the trap, but he was unable to counter attack before the cat withdrew out of reach.
‘“Clever kitty,’ Ravenel muttered. He nocked another arrow and took aim for the garunda’s chest. The fire from the first vial was starting to die out now, so he fired the arrow quickly, hoping to at least distract the beast long enough to reach and light the second vial. The garunda swatted the arrow out of the air and roared mightily, showing its pink gums and throat. Ravenel grabbed a vial and threw it to the flames. He heard the glass crack, but it wasn’t enough to set the oil inside aflame. When Ravenel realized the malfunction, he started for the vial, but the beast lunged in the way, snarling with what seemed to be a wicked grin.
‘“Clever indeed,’ Ravenel said. His right hand went up for his mini crossbow and he fired at the beast’s face. The garunda arched back to dodge, but the bolt sunk deep into the beast’s chest. The cat roared in anger and reared up on its hind legs. Ravenel then drew a dagger and threw it at the garunda’s exposed underbelly. However, the garunda unleashed a powerful shockwave that knocked the dagger backward, and sent Ravenel flying back again to the opposite wall of the cave.
“Ravenel felt his ribs bend under the pressure as he was crushed between the magical blast and the rock wall of the cave, but he focused enough on the fight to keep from blacking out as the pain rippled through his body. The garunda dropped heavily back down to the ground, but accidentally crushed the vial underfoot. The newly spilt oil caught flame and the cat was enveloped in fire. The garunda flopped onto the stone and howled in agony. The fire grew on the beast as the burning oil clung to its skin.
“The hero set his bow down. His chest and back hurt far too much to draw the string back anymore. He loaded the mini crossbow as quickly as he could and fired repeatedly at the horrid beast. Each bolt slammed into the cat with a sickening crack, sending it twitching and recoiling over the flaming oil. Each jerk of its massive body seemed to take more and more of its remaining energy until finally, after several shots, the beast lay mostly still upon the stone, save for the occasional spasm that often occurs after death.
“Ravenel cautiously walked up to the smoldering beast and, with one swipe of his axe, smote off its head just to be sure that it would not somehow rise from its condition and follow him down the tunnel. This time he was careful to avoid the spray of sizzling blood. He went back to grab his bow, and took a moment to stretch his torso against the aches and stabbing pain that still reverberated through his body. Then, before moving farther into the cave, he dipped his arrow heads into the garunda’s blood, hoping it might give him an advantage over the shade he had yet to face.”
Kyra broke here and flattened the book on her lap. “Still think he’s a coward?” she teased.
“Continue story,” Leatherback said quickly.
Kyra picked the book up, quite pleased that she had managed to capture Leatherback’s full attention now. She picked up where she had left off.
“Ravenel followed the tunnel for more than half an hour as it wound downward, spiraling deeper into the earth below. He passed by the torn bodies of many more men as he went. The air grew thicker further down, and there arose a somewhat sour odor as he neared the main chamber, but what surprised him most was that there appeared to be a light coming from deeper inside the tunnel.
“Slowly, very slowly, he came around the final bend into the main chamber, and what he saw almost blew him over. There, standing defiantly in the large chamber, was an ancient temple. It was cylindrical in design, rising up as an oversized support column to the cave ceiling above and joining with it thirty feet above his head. The entrance, a single, enormous, black, stone door, was flanked on either side by oversized granite statues of demonic warriors. So astonished was he that his heart almost stopped beating within his chest. Ravenel then noted several large sconces along the outside of the temple, each of them ablaze, sending light flooding through the chamber.
“A low, yet distinct growl alerted him to the presence of yet another garunda. Ravenel slowly turned his head to the left to regard the monster, and he was surprised, happily so, to discover the broken shaft of a large spear protruding from the beast
’s front leg, along with several arrows embedded deep in her flanks. This beast would not be half as hard to slay.
“The beast continued to growl, but she did not advance, and it was only as she paced sidelong in front of him that Ravenel noticed her oversized belly. This garunda was pregnant. Ravenel thanked the gods for his fortunate timing, for he knew that if the beast had succeeded in giving birth, it would have spelled almost certain disaster for the townsfolk.
“He quickly drew out his mini crossbow, loaded a poisonous bolt, and then let fly for the beast. She tried to dodge the bolt, but she was too wounded to escape. The shaft bit deep into her side, spilling its poison into her blood. Within moments her steps were shaky and her growl was almost inaudible. She roared once, albeit weakly, and then fell onto the stone with her head facing Ravenel. Ravenel then loaded another bolt. He took aim at the beast’s head and let loose. The bolt hit home and sent the beast to the fires of Hammenfein. Never one to take a chance against nature, especially the darker forces of nature, Ravenel retrieved one of the sconces from the outside of the temple and set it to the body and let the flames consume the evil beast along with her unborn demons.
“A whoosh of air erupted from the temple then as the large, stone door was flung open with ease. Ravenel spun around to see a tall, pale-faced figure standing in the doorway before him. She wore gray and red robes, with her silver hair in a single plaited braid that sat lazily over her shoulder. A pair of wicked scimitars hung at the figure’s sides.
‘“You killed them,’ the shade sneered as it stepped out from the doorway.
‘“I did,’ Ravenel replied as he closely studied the new threat. It was almost hard to discern, but he decided that this particular shade was, or had been at one time, a female elf. Her facial features seemed even more prominent now with her faded and gray skin pulled so tightly against her cheek bones. Her teeth seemed almost serpentine-like as she hissed at Ravenel. Her eyes were bereft of all color, leaving only white orbs to look at. Ravenel knew that those white eyes had led to the demise of many people, for the first few to come against this strange and powerful foe had mistakenly thought that the eyes were sightless. This, as Ravenel knew, was not the case. In fact they could see quite well, better than most of the fairer races of the realm even.