by Aaron Hodges
His face was lined and his eyes careworn, but he wore an amused smile. He carried a walking staff of oak, which he leaned on heavily as he approached them.
Inken’s cheeks reddened and Eric felt his own grow warm. “Sorry, sir,” he offered. “It’s been a long and crowded ride up the river.”
The priest waved a hand. “Not at all. We are used to couples passing through, and seeking some quiet with each other. We do not judge – that is not the way of the Gods,” he smiled. “So what brings two young lovers to the Temple of the Earth and Sky.”
“We heard it was the place to visit in Sitton,” Inken offered. “Although we really just needed to get away from the rest of our company for a time.”
“Understandable. I remember my youth all too well. Welcome, anyway. You will find all the peace you could want in the courtyard,” he turned and waved for them to follow.
They made their way down a short corridor and back out into the lengthening shadows. There they found themselves in the midst of a tamed jungle. Vines grew up the walls and hung from dense trees. The last calls of the evening chorus faded away as they walked between the trees. The scent of azalea flowers and chamomile drifted in the air. Chimes hung from the branches, ringing in the afternoon breeze. Lanterns lined the marble walls, the strange flames within casting a flickering blue light beneath the trees, as though lightning flashed overhead.
The priest bowed and disappeared back through the doorway, leaving them alone in the strange courtyard.
Eric smiled, the glow of the lanterns bringing back memories of their night at the hot springs in Dragon Country. It could not have been much more than a week ago, but already it seemed a lifetime. The trials they’d suffered since had strengthened the bond between them more than he could ever have imagined.
“What life would you want to live, Inken, when this is finished?”
Inken lifted her bow off her shoulder and held it in her hands. “I don’t know. This used to matter to me, this life on the road, the thrill of hunting down criminals, testing my skill against theirs. But I don’t know any more, not after this, after doing something so much more meaningful. Now…” she shook her head, returning the bow to her shoulder. “I think it would be nice to try something new,” she smiled, “maybe something less life threatening.”
“Like fishing?”
Inken chuckled, nodding her head in amusement. “Like fishing.”
They sat together in silence for a while, watching a red finch hop its way along a nearby branch to its nest in the tree trunk. Quiet settled over the courtyard like a mist, blocking out the world outside, the worries of tomorrow. They sat there, relishing the quiet, the chance just to be with each other. Eric felt his heart swell, fed by the warmth of Inken at his side, and knew he loved this girl more than anything else in this world.
He had finally found peace.
Somehow, he knew it could not last.
A dim rumble carried from outside. Dread swept through Eric, washing away the peace. The sound swelled, as though whatever caused it was growing larger.
Or coming closer.
The rumble erupted into a roar as the ground started to shake.
They leapt from the bench and stumbled as the tiles shifted beneath them. Eric clutched at Inken, desperate to keep his feet as the earthquake shook the world. The walls of the courtyard groaned, cracks racing through the marble. He glimpsed the spire through the treetops, swaying in the dying sunlight.
Eric could sense the magic in the quake, the power surging through the air, boiling the ground with a force unlike any he had felt before. He could almost touch it, almost taste its metallic tang.
This nightmare could have only one source.
Terrified, they held each other and waited for the world to end.
With a sound like air being sucked from the room, the shaking ceased. But the groans continued, the buildings around them straining beneath their own weight. The cracks in the walls widened, spreading around the courtyard.
The priest reappeared in the doorway. “You must get out of here, now. The temple, the tower, it won’t survive another one.”
Eric and Inken swept up their belongings and sprinted for the doorway. They ducked into the corridor after the priest, desperate to make the street outside. Dust trickled from the ceiling and tiny pebbles bounced onto the cobbled floor. A mosaic of spider webbed factures criss-crossed the walls. The old man moved quickly now, fear adding speed to his limp. The clack clacking of his staff echoed loudly in the dark corridor.
As they emerged into the street they were greeted by the blood red light of sunset. Eric turned to Inken. “It’s him. Thomas, the demon, whatever it is. I could feel the magic in the air, like Antonia’s, but tainted, dark.”
“The demon?” Inken pressed her hand to his chest. They both remembered all too well what had happened the last time they’d met it. “It’s here?”
Eric nodded, his hand clutched around his sword. “Yes, or close. That was no natural earthquake. Its power, it could only have been caused by God magic.”
Inken knelt and strung her bow. “We have to find the others,” straightening, she looked down the street.
Pandemonium had engulfed the city around them. People poured from the surrounding buildings, mingling on the road in horror and confusion. Nearby several buildings had collapsed, sending bricks tumbling into the street. Eric glimpsed an arm amidst the rubble and quickly looked away.
But there was no avoiding the chaos. Everywhere he looked, people stumbled through the broken bricks and mortar, dust coating their clothing as they pleaded for help. Others had already begun to pick their way through the debris, pulling survivors from the broken buildings.
Closing his eyes, Eric struggled to think. The desperate cries of the villagers assailed him, begging for help. Swallowing his guilt, he closed his heart to them. They could not stop to help these people; they had to find Enala, had to get her to safety. They did not have the power to stop the demon – with Antonia’s power, only Jurrien stood a chance against it.
“The inn is this way,” Inken started to pick her way through the rubble, glancing back at Eric.
Eric nodded and they began to run. His mind raced and the world seemed to slow. As they dodged through the wreckage, he glimpsed the horror on the faces of the villagers, the blood streaming down their faces, heard the boom as another building crumpled.
How did the demon find us? The question raced through his mind. Or was it just here by coincidence?
Either way, Enala was in grave danger. They had to find her, now.
Together they leapt over the broken bricks in the street and ducked beneath shattered walls. People ran in every direction, hindering their headlong rush through the city.
Another rumble came from the distance but they did not stop. Shoulders tensed with expectation, they ran on.
A sharp crack came from ahead. Eric glanced up and saw a wave rippling through the very earth, tearing the bricked road to pieces as it rolled towards them. The street rose up beneath them and tossed them from their feet. Nearby buildings seemed to crumble at the seams as the earth shook them to pieces.
A sharp crack came from behind them. Eric looked back in time to see the tower of the temple topple into the street. Metal shrieked on stone as the bell struck the ground. Dust billowed out in all directions, spilling into the surrounding streets.
Eric coughed, holding his shirt across his face. But the quake had passed, and he struggled to stand.
Dark laughter echoed from the crumpled buildings. Eric spun, eyes searching the clouds of dust, seeking the source. But the sound came from all around, chasing the people through the ruins of the city, bringing fresh terror to the populace.
Ice slid through Eric’s veins. He looked across as Inken grabbed his hand.
“Run!”
Eight
“I’m glad you came,” Caelin slapped Michael’s back as he joined him at the bar.
Michael grinned. “Didn’t
think you could handle all these young folk without me?” he slid a draft of ale across to the soldier with a laugh.
Caelin shook his head. He would never admit it, but there was some truth to Michael’s words. “No, no, I just figured we would need a doctor around if I’m going to continue beating them every day.”
Michael took a swig from his mug. “You’re pressing them hard.”
The mood turned sombre. “Ay, I am. Enala is tough, far tougher than I expected. And Eric has his magic. But we have seen ourselves that neither is always enough. They need to be prepared for anything. I won’t always be there to protect them.”
“You’re a good man, Caelin. So long as we have men like you around to fight the good fight, men like me will continue to hope.”
Caelin grimaced. “You sell yourself short, Michael. If not for your skill, Eric would have bled to death on that beach before Antonia had any hope of healing him. And it was your quick thinking that got us to Lon in the first place,” he paused. “How are you, now… you know, with Antonia gone?”
Michael shrugged, face hidden in his mug. “I cannot believe she is gone, not for good. Once Jurrien destroys that demon, he will free her from the Soul Blade and restore her to life. I have faith things will work out.”
Shaking his head, Caelin glanced at the older man. “I am glad we have you, Michael. For myself, I’m finding it harder and harder to hold out hope. Enala is strong, but can she truly wield the Sword? And without Antonia, will that even matter?” he swallowed another mouthful of the cool ale. “But as you say, we must have faith. Jurrien will come through.”
“He will. And I am glad I came too. I don’t know if I could have stayed in Lon, not knowing your fates. Thank you for convincing me.”
Caelin gave him another slap on the back. “My pleasure,” as he stood a rumble came from the floor.
Then the ground began to shake.
Caelin stumbled as cracks spread through the wooden floor boards. Struggling to keep his feet, he grabbed for the bar as Michael toppled from his stool. The other patrons screamed, lurching from their tables towards the doorway. Burning lanterns fell from their brackets and shattered on the floor.
Instinct screamed for Caelin to follow the townsfolk outside, but Gabriel and Enala were asleep upstairs. If the building went up in flames, they would be trapped, and their quest would all be for naught.
As the shaking subsided he turned to the nearest lantern, where oily flames were already licking at the varnished wood. Pulling off his cloak he beat at the flames, attempting to smother them.
“Michael, get the others! We have to get out of this building,” he cried.
Michael pulled himself to his feet and raced for the stairs.
The flames caught at Caelin’s cloak and heat washed over his face. He tossed it to the ground, spinning in search of a better weapon against the fire. A whoosh came from across the room as the blaze raced up the curtains. Then the bartender was there, dousing it with a bucket of water.
Caelin looked across the counter and glimpsed a barrel of water sitting at the back. Grabbing a bucket from beside the door, he raced to join the bartender. Water hissed as it struck the flames. Steam and smoke billowed across the room, but within a few minutes they had the blaze under control.
Michael appeared at the top of the stairwell leading Gabriel and Enala. They carried a bag over each shoulder and their swords strapped at their waists. Each wore a grim expression of terror.
“This cannot be coincidence,” Michael coughed through the smoke. “This has to be Earth magic. The demon has found us.”
“How?” Gabriel asked. “No one but Jurrien and his priests knew we were travelling up the river. Could it not just have been an earthquake, no more than that?”
“Either way, we had better get out of this building,” Enala observed. “I’ve never felt one like that, but we used to have earthquakes in Chole. There are usually aftershocks. Every so often buildings would collapse, so it’s best to move outside while you have the chance.”
Caelin nodded. “Okay, let’s get out of here,” he moved for the door. The innkeeper, satisfied his property was at least safe from the flames, had already fled.
Moving through the swinging doors, Caelin found the streets outside the inn empty. He looked around, surprised, and glimpsed the innkeeper disappearing round the corner at the top of the hill. The others followed him outside as he turned to look downhill towards the port.
He took a step backwards, fear sending a chill right down to his toes.
A dark forest now blocked the road, black trunks towering above the buildings. Vines wrapped around the trees and slivered like snakes through the branches. The grey leaves whistled with the wind, dagger-like twigs stretching out towards them. Thorns stabbed from every surface of the vegetation. Not a hint of life came from the dark forest.
Caelin saw the trees were marked by faces, their mouths open, twisted in pain. He watched as new vegetation sprang from the ground, the forest advancing towards them. He shuddered, dread gripping his very soul. There was no mistaking what they faced now.
The demon had arrived.
“We need to get to the ship,” Michael whispered beside him.
“I know. That’s in our way,” he nodded towards the dark forest.
“Then we cut our way through,” Gabriel insisted.
“No,” Caelin glanced around, “nothing that goes in there is coming out alive.”
“Can we go around then?”
“I doubt it,” Enala’s face had paled, but she remained resolute. “The demon cannot know exactly where we are, or we’d be dead already. It is just making sure we can’t get to the river.”
The rumbling came again, followed by a second quake. This time the earth itself rippled. The power of its movement knocked them from their feet. They crouched on the bricked road, eyes squeezed shut, and endured.
When the shaking stopped, little remained of the city around them. Fortunately, the buildings in this area of Sitton were made of wood, so most had collapsed inwards on themselves rather than toppling into the street. But flames were already taking light in the ruins, the smouldering remains of fireplaces and lanterns catching amidst the fresh kindling. Smoke drifted in the air.
Then the laughter began; a bleak, evil sound that sucked the hope from their souls and the strength from their limbs. It echoed around the city, bouncing from the ruins to encircle them.
“Come on, we have to try,” Caelin fought against the laughter’s pull, hauling himself to his feet.
The others stood with him.
“Where do we –?” the crackle of thunder interrupted Gabriel.
They turned together to look at the forest. A bolt of lightning fell from the sky, disappearing somewhere amidst the blackened trees and leaving a white streak in Caelin’s vision. He stared, breath held, waiting.
“Eric?” Michael whispered.
*************
The laughter chased them through the crumbling streets, haunting their footsteps like the ghosts of the past, driving them on. Eric felt a pain in his chest, an icy fist clenching hard around where the Soul Blade had pierced him. It grew stronger as they approached the inn.
When they turned the final corner they slammed to a halt, shocked to find a murky forest stretching across their path. Faces of terror stared out from the trunks of the trees, red eyes alive with pain. Thorny vines waved at them, reaching out, alive, searching for prey. The forest itself stood dead, no birds or animals in sight, a perverted mirror of the temple courtyard.
“The inn is on the other side, I think,” Inken murmured. “What do we do?”
“Not far now,” Eric whispered back, already moving, instinct taking over.
He reached out with his magic, summoning the power of a distant storm cloud. Thunder crashed and lightning flashed from the sky to strike his outstretched arm. A blue arc of energy took shape in his hand. With a scream of rage, he pointed it at the forest.
Blue fire
leapt from his fingers, burning its way through the dark apparitions. A strange, eerie scream sounded as the lightning touched the trees. The red vanished from the haunted eyes as the electric glow bathed them, and the vines curled back to wither and die. In seconds he had burnt a path through the evil forest.
Eric grabbed Inken’s hand. “Let’s go!”
They sprinted down the path as the lightning continued to burn its way closer to the inn. Vines and branches reached for them, thorny fingers grasping at their hair and clothes. Inken drew her sword and struck back without breaking stride, wild swings keeping the dark limbs at bay. Seconds later they burst through the other side of the forest, into the last light of the dying sun.
Except burning buildings now lit the city streets. By their light they saw their four companions, eyes wide, mouths open in astonishment. Inken and Eric raced towards them, eager to put distance between themselves and the twisted trees.
“About time you two showed up,” Caelin wore an anxious smile. “We were getting worried.”
“Sorry, we didn’t expect company here in Sitton. The demon is coming; we have to go. We can’t fight it.”
“Agreed,” Caelin pointed behind them. “Think you can blast your way back out, Eric?”
Eric turned, cursing to see the path had already closed.
“Stay back,” he moved closer to the forest, gathering more lightning to him. The air crackled as the power danced in his hands, raising hairs on his arms. Pointing his finger, he unleashed the pent up force. The trees of the forest again gave way, burnt to ash.
They moved quickly, shepparding Enala between them, Caelin bringing up the rear. They struck at the vines with their blades, ducking through the tangled assault. Only Michael was unarmed, although Eric had yet to draw his blade. Lightning crackled in his palm; that was all he needed.
Halfway through the trees, a scream came from behind Eric. He spun, hand raised to strike, but a vine shot from the thicket and wrapped itself about his wrist. He gasped as thorns bit deep into his skin. Before he could react the vine gave a jolt, and began to drag him towards the darkness beneath the trees. In horror he glimpsed one of the faces in the trees waiting for him, its eyes now warped with hunger, the dark mouth opening wide to reveal its twisted teeth.