Michael found himself sitting at a very intimate distance with Vivian’s lips. He had to admit she was right. They were just lips. But at the suggestion that he kiss them, he suddenly felt very awkward. It’s not that he didn’t want to kiss them. It’s just that he was sure she was making fun of him.
He cleared his throat and shifted backwards into his seat. Vivian immediately sat up straight again, and this time Michael was sure she was pushing her breasts out.
“I’ll give you two more guesses.”
“Two guesses, you say?” Michael said, his eyes darting to her breasts and back again.
“Just two.”
“I think I’m in trouble.”
“How so?”
“I fear if I don’t give you an answer, you’ll be insulted. But if I give the answer I think you’re seeking, I’ll insult you even more.”
“How shall we solve this quandary?” Vivian asked, very playfully.
“I’ll have to give you a gift.”
“A gift? How wonderful.”
“But you shall have to take a walk with me.”
“We are right back at the beginning. I should not be seen about the Castle, especially in your company. Your father would not approve.”
“My father is away. Harold Rutherford is a fool and Lord Vye doesn’t care. Please, walk with me so that I can apologize for the insult.”
“Very well, I accept.”
They stood and walked out of the room. They traversed the length of the Castle in silence, as Michael led her all the way out of the third floor exit, which was also on ground level because of the hill. He went to the stables and brought her to her favorite horse. It was currently fitted with Michael’s old saddle, which had been polished and re-oiled.
“The saddle?” Vivian noticed.
“I spoke to Kern, and he tells me you’ve spent a considerable amount of time in here, and that this is your favorite horse.”
“It’s lovely, thank you,” she said, and she kissed him on the cheek.
“Shall we take a ride? There’s a very beautiful path up the eastern hill.”
“Michael, I don’t know how to ride.”
“You never learned to ride?”
“My father never let my sister or me ride. He said Ladies should ride in carriages.”
“Well, then, we shall have to disobey both of our fathers today.”
“Michael, I’m not dressed for riding.”
“You’re fine. Come, we’ll go out to the fields over that way. Nobody will see us.”
Vivian looked as though she was going to argue again, but Michael quickly opened the stable doors and took her horse out. She let her protests fall away as Michael led them out into the field.
Chapter 21: The Source
The foursome walked though the Turinheld in silence. What could be said amongst them after so awkward an introduction? Nuria expressed her concern to Duncan in her quietest voice.
“How do we know she won’t just kill Noble when she gets a chance?” she whispered.
“We won’t know until she gets a chance,” Duncan shrugged.
“That won’t be comforting to Sir Noble. And it isn’t to me, for that matter.”
“It is rude to speak in whispers,” Sir Noble called out, so that Landora would hear him as well.
“Our apologies, Landora,” Duncan said in her language. He hopped forward in the march to walk alongside her. “We meant nothing by it.”
“In your situation, I would be whispering as well. I would be concerned that my guide was planning to kill me and my companions.”
“Well, I guess it’s good we outnumber you three to one,” Duncan pointed out. Landora scanned over her wards.
“I suppose it’s almost a fair fight,” she concluded, “Though I would have given you two more to make it even.”
“You’re that good?”
“I am excellent.”
“With no shortage of confidence, I see.”
“Why shouldn’t I be confident? There are none in the continent who can best me save my Master. And possibly the late Countess Vye.”
“Very well. If we decide to fight you, we’ll bring a couple of friends.”
“I wouldn’t want an unfair advantage.”
“That’s very generous of you.”
“Only seems fair,” Landora said, and she and Duncan shared a chuckle.
---
Nuria watched the two of them walk ahead of the group. She was startled to see Landora laugh, even just a little. The woman had seemed so cold and off-putting. And of course if someone could get her to laugh, it would be Duncan.
And then Nuria realized what was happening. Duncan, being all handsome and charming, and Landora, being all athletic and exotic, and the two of them laughing together. Of course they would be attracted to each other. Nuria felt it was unfair. She knew Duncan first. The only thing keeping her from getting him was her age. And her age wasn’t her fault.
But before her jealous thoughts could go any further, she stumbled to her knees, clutching her chest. Sir Noble knelt beside her, steadying the dizzy girl. Nuria was overwhelmed with vertigo. A howling wind blew through the trees and the fading light of the sun seemed to dim even more.
“Duncan!” Noble called out, but Duncan was holding up Landora, who had also staggered in her step. “What’s happening?”
“We’re close,” Landora reported. “Is the girl alright?”
“I’m fine,” Nuria responded, though her voice was strained.
“What was that?” Duncan demanded.
“We are close to the source of Argos’ power,” Landora explained, standing upright again. She scanned the forest with her eyes, trying to zero in on the origin of the power. “Me and the girl--”
“Nuria,” the girl interrupted.
“Me and Nuria,” Landora corrected herself, “We are sensitive to the auras that surround us, so we felt it first. But you will sense it as we get closer, and I can’t guarantee that you will be able to endure it.”
---
Indeed, as the company moved further into the woods, they felt a presence growing before them. At first, it was just a sense of trepidation. But soon, it was a clear power seizing them, trying to restrain them. Making them fight for every step.
Landora looked sideways at Nuria. The younger mage was struggling with her steps, but seemed resilient. Sir Noble was unable to hide the pain. Each step was getting harder. His eyes strained against the ache in his head. Duncan lagged behind, but it was clear that he was having trouble keeping up, let alone catching up.
And then Landora saw it. A stone facade in the middle of the woods. A building of foreign design, completely unfamiliar to Landora. The Turin were not likely to build in stone, and the Rone had never been this far north. But the shape of the structure was what stood out the most. A dome, an overturned stone bowl. Perhaps fifteen meters tall, with only one entrance carved into the north side.
“You two should wait outside,” Landora called out to the two men, as she saw Noble leaning against a tree for balance.
“I will stand beside you,” Noble insisted.
“It’s alright,” Duncan called from further back, “Landora, you know what it’s like to lose a sister.”
Landora nodded. Duncan collapsed against a tree, sitting to face the stone wonder, “That is how I will feel if any harm comes to Nuria.”
Landora nodded again, understanding his meaning.
“Come,” Landora said, holding out her hand. Nuria took it, and the two stepped up to the doorway. “This will likely be very dangerous,” she warned. “And frightening.”
“I’m not scared,” Nuria said defiantly.
“I can tell. And I don’t want you to be afraid. I want you to be prepared.”
Nuria nodded. The two stood at the doorway, staring in. Almost no light made it into the cavern. They crossed the threshold...
---
Inside was an empty space, save for a raised platform in the center
of the floor. The pedestal was decorated with four arcane symbols, one on each side of the dais. They were in a language Landora had never seen before.
A small opening in the top of the dome allowed a small amount of light to sift into the otherwise featureless place. There was nothing else in the room, practical or decorative. But there was The Presence.
“He’s here,” Nuria said aloud, though she didn’t know what she meant. Landora didn’t know what she meant either, but she understood it. Just by entering the room, she knew there was someone else there. Somehow. Just out of sight and sound and mind...
“This place is too dangerous,” Nuria warned.
“We must find out more.”
“We can’t, not now.”
“I will place myself on the pedestal,” Landora announced. “Wait by the entrance.”
“Don’t do it!”
“I will be careful,” Landora assured the girl, though her steps were uncertain. She stepped onto the platform, and she could sense a burning in her heart, the presence growing stronger.
“Please, don’t go any further,” Nuria warned.
But Landora was beyond arguing, not even having the strength to voice her reservations. She moved into the center of the pedestal, turning--
---
Her skin flayed in the roaring flames. As though the world were nothing but an endless fire. The ground, the air, everything was made of orange and red, hot green and blue, searing her mind, her body, her soul.
Landora focused as best she could, but she was no longer in the dome, or even in the Turinheld, or even on any particular day of the week. She was fastened to a rack made of burning coals, naked against an open flame. Her eyes wouldn’t close, burning and yet still seeing, stinging in pain and yet unable to look away.
And the presence came to her, stepping closer and closer. It was also made of flame, camouflaged against the universe of fire. But it had eyes, and it was looking at her. This was its world, and the fire that was consuming her was feeding this thing. This mind. Those eyes--
---
Nuria did not dare approach the pedestal, even though Landora had collapsed on the stone ground. The Turin woman was writhing in pain, her body jerking violently, as though caught in a nightmare of torture. Nuria wanted desperately to get her out of there, but knew that stepping on the platform could be just as deadly for her as for Landora.
She tried to grasp Landora’s body with her mind and move it with magic, but something held the Turin mage fast to the ground.
“Duncan!” she called out, but she knew that was hopeless. The men outside could barely stand near this thing. And Nuria was quickly running out of the strength to do so herself.
That’s when she spotted the vine. It was a just a few inches of foliage growing down through the opening on the roof. But those vines had been wrapped around the trunks of the trees in these woods.
She focused all her energy on the vine, tugging it loose from the stone. She yanked at it, pulling it down, dangling it over the pedestal as she got more and more slack. It sunk down, inch by inch, to the ailing Turin. Landora’s body rolled over, as though avoiding the rope. Her skin, already tan by her nature, was darkening...
And now the vine was starting to smoke. Nuria knew she had to do this fast and sloppy. She pulled the vine down, wrapping it around Landora’s arm, twisting it tight, even as it hissed in the heat.
And she pulled the vine back up to the roof. It caught fire as Landora ascended, but the further up she went, the easier it was to move her.
Nuria felt herself getting faint. This was too much exertion while still fighting off the unnatural fatigue of this place. But she had to get Landora to safety. She flung the unconscious Turin through the sunroof, pushing her off to the side and out of sight.
She collapsed backwards...
---
Nuria woke moments later in Noble’s arms. He was carrying her away from the structure, fighting off the pain he had endured to enter the temple and rescue her.
“Landora,” Nuria panted.
“She’s fine. She slid down the outside of the building and Duncan is bringing her back.”
Noble jogged as fast as he could away from the structure, and Nuria could see over his shoulder that Duncan and Landora were staggering behind them.
Landora healed quickly once she was able to rest. Nuria was still experiencing vertigo for some time, even once they stopped. Duncan sat beside her as she rested against a tree, trying to regain her balance.
“How are you feeling?” he said.
“I’ll be fine. You?”
“Never better.”
“Duncan, do you...” but she trailed off.
“What is it?”
“Do you really love me...as a sister?” It was one of the most weighted questions in the history of not asking the question that will get you the answer you’re looking for.
“Of course I do,” Duncan said. “But I’ll let you in on a secret.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re much cooler than my actual sisters.” And he smiled. Nuria treasured that smile, and the secret, even though it moved her both closer and further from his heart.
Landora stepped forward, interrupting their quiet repartee.
“I am sorry to intrude,” she said, “But I must thank you, Nuria. You saved my life.”
“You would have done the same.”
“Yes, but nonetheless, you show great bravery and mettle for one so young.”
“Thank you,” Nuria responded, “And you show great bravery and mettle for one not much older than me.”
“What are we dealing with?” Duncan interjected.
“I don’t know,” Landora shrugged. “It is a being of immense power. But it is not of this world. And somehow, Argos was channeling this creature’s will through his magic. Likely, all the Turin-Sen were.”
“Have we learned anything that can help us?” Noble challenged.
“Yes,” Landora said. “I know where the creature is. I could sense it, in the temple. It is like the north pole, and my mind is like a compass.”
“Are we sure we want to go where that thing is?” Noble chimed in. “We barely made it out of that...place.”
“Argos kept this place a secret,” Landora argued. “And I believe he was communing with this power for a long time. But I got the impression that the fire burns far from here. And that is where we will learn more.”
“Do we have any proof that this place is connected to the attack on Vye?” Duncan insisted.
“No,” Landora admitted.
“Yes,” Nuria spoke barely above a whisper.
“Nuria?” Duncan said, turning to her with concern. “Nuria, are you sure?”
“Yes,” she answered. “I didn’t commune with it the way Landora did. But I could feel it fighting me. I could feel it holding Landora to the ground. Spreading fear and pain throughout the room. It’s the same energy I felt in Hartstone. The night the Countess was attacked.”
“Then we must travel north,” Noble concluded.
“As soon as we are all prepared to march, let us return to Sayil,” Landora said, “If we can reach Master Eric before they depart for the Peace Festival, he can send us to the frozen north.”
Chapter 22: The Prison
The people of Aceley were a proud bunch. The northern-most inhabited island in the world, Aceley experienced exceptionally long winters, brief and mild summers, and a sense of isolation and self-reliance that breeds really arrogant assholes.
On the southern shore of the country, the three most populated cities took advantage of the waterways. That is, when they’re not frozen over. And the dogsleds and the mounted Tuskers provided reasonably fast transport across the land. There was an eastern peninsula that could produce a decent yield at harvest time, and there were plenty of big, scary animals covered in blubber that tasted delicious when you were starving in the cold.
But the northern half of the island-country was not only uni
nhabited, but rarely explored, even by the bravest hunters. The big, scary animals got bigger and scarier up north, with less blubber and more claws and jaws. Territorial beasts that you would just as soon not know about. There was nothing of civilization up there. Just the cold and the dark.
It was into this desolation that Selene and Helios arrived. It had been a week since they had sunk the island of Losmourne and, with that act, they had completed all the requirements of their long journey. They had only to visit the prison.
For almost an hour, Selene and Helios walked in silence. They both knew where they were going, and the event was so momentous as to make any small talk seem particularly small. Today would be culmination of several millennia of work.
Finally they arrived at a cave entrance at the bottom of a sheer cliff of ice. Lesser travelers might have thought this was a bear cave, but only if they didn’t notice that the entrance was a little too symmetrical, and that there were runes carved in the stone along the inner walls.
Selene and Helios walked down the dark corridor until the cave opened to a much larger room. A room that looked exactly like the one Landora and Nuria had braved in the Turinheld. A dome, with a pedestal, and a sunroof.
Except for one important factor. Standing on the pedestal, completely still, was a Demon. The Demon was called Kraken D’l Grimsor. He was five meters tall, with horns, wings, and a tail. His skin was a leathery tan-red, and an exoskeleton covered his arms, legs, and back. If his eyes had been open, they would have glowed red.
If someone who actually knew enough about the world were to make a list of the most dangerous creatures native to the planet, they would end up listing the three remaining dragons, the Sea Drake of the Delinampora Sea, a few mages, and assorted others. But if this person, assuming he knew what he was talking about, was asked to compare these things to Grimsor, he would throw away his list. Grimsor was not native to the planet, and therefore existed on a scale of danger completely his own. He had been summoned by some people who had wanted eternal power. He had caused immense tragedy and grief. Finally, he had been captured.
This was his prison. There were no bars. There were no gates. There were no guards. It was only the runes which kept him in place, and kept him suspended. It had been an epic effort to capture and imprison him here, but the jailers hadn’t realized there would still be those loyal to the creature. And these followers were fanatical. They had done amazing things, all in the name of rescuing their deity. They had worked hard over the centuries, and today they were finally ready.
A Dagger of the Mind (The Imperial Metals) Page 11