“Are you saying this is my fault?”
Trissa snorted. “You don’t scare me, little boy.”
“Maybe that’s because you don’t know why I was sentenced to the Guild,” Ashur said, narrowing his eyes.
“No, I don’t,” Trissa replied, taking a step forward. “But I was sentenced for breaking a Paladin’s leg and cracking another one’s skull. So come and get it, little boy.”
“Easy!” Aric slid in between them and pushed Trissa away. “Teamwork, remember? That’s what Saruk was talking about before we blacked out. This is just another exercise. We need to work together to get out.”
“This is not just another exercise.” Nahir’s powerful voice came from across the room. “Leth is correct, we are still in the desert. Which means….” He paused as if he was afraid of his own words. “We are in the Frostbound.”
“What’s the Frostbound?” Aric asked
Leth made a dismissive hand-wave. “It’s a Cyrinian legend.”
“It is no legend, Leth of Nahlwar,” Nahir said. “It is quite real, and we are inside of it. How else do you explain a frozen place in the middle of the Mahar?”
“Just because I can’t explain the ice,” Leth replied, “it doesn’t mean it comes from the realm of the dead.”
“The what?” Half of the group made that question in unison, and the other half didn’t look any less curious.
Leth exhaled loudly. “The Cyrinians believe there is a gate to the underworld buried beneath the Mahar. It’s supposed to be frozen because the frost seeps through the gate or something.” He waved dismissively.
“Ava’s mercy,” Clea muttered, hugging herself.
Athan lit his prayer flask and began mumbling something inaudible. Irenya, Orisius, and Lyra joined him.
“Why would instructor Saruk put us in a place like this?” Clea asked.
“Because, obviously, this is not the doorstep to the underworld,” Leth said.
Ergon, Trissa, and Irenya decided to join the collective prayer.
“Oh, come on!” Leth protested. “This is clearly a sacred place, sure, there’s Glowstone and all, but let’s be reasonable.”
“Maybe you’re the one being unreasonable,” Clea said.
Leth snorted, shaking his head.
“It doesn’t matter,” Aric said. “Leth is right about one thing. There’s no point in panicking. We need to calm down and figure a way out of here. Nahir, why do you think Saruk brought us here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” the black Cyrinian replied. “If we’re ever going to kill a Dragon we’ll need weapons made from Glowstone. Look around you.”
Aric obeyed, and so did everyone else. Nahir was right. The place was full of it.
“No, no, no,” Irenya said, pointing at Ashur, Jullion, and Prion. “There’s no way I’ll be going with you three.”
“Don’t worry,” Orisius said, smiling at her with his liquid green eyes. “I’ve got your back.”
The girl nearly melted.
I wish I knew how to do that… Aric thought, taking a quick glance at Clea.
“Ok,” Aric said, clapping his hands. “I, Clea, Leth, Nahir, and Athan will take the corridor on the right. Dothea, Tharius, Trissa, Ergon, and Lyra will take the one in the middle, and‒”
“Me and Orisius are stuck with these three,” Irenya said, frowning.
“Exactly,” Aric smiled. “Good luck. We’ll meet back here.”
The three groups separated, and as Aric climbed the narrow stairs the confusion of echoes from the other groups’ chatter slowly faded until they became silent.
There were patches of ice covering the floor tiles like puddles, so Aric treaded carefully. At the top of the stairs, a wide corridor stretched towards a massive wooden door. Hundreds of tiny Glowstone shards dotted the walls like indigo stars in a clear night sky.
“It’s beautiful,” Clea said.
Leth pushed the door at the end of the corridor and the hinges wailed. On the other side was a round chamber with the statue of a warrior in the center.
“Look at that,” Aric said, pointing at an inscription on the statue’s pedestal.
“Runes,” Nahir said.
“Yeah,” Aric agreed. “Like the ones on a Bloodhouse.”
“Why would someone build a statue of a warrior at the gates to the underworld?” Athan asked.
“I would answer that question,” Leth said, “but I have a feeling I already did.”
Aric moved to a door right across from the one they had come in through.
“We should keep going,” he said, opening the door.
There was another wide corridor on the other side of the door. As before, it was lit by a myriad of Glowstone shards incrusted into the walls.
“Wait!” Clea said, stopping. “We’re being stupid.”
Leth crossed his arms. “I agree, but there’s no need to be that hard on yourselves.”
“I’m serious,” Clea continued. “The walls are full of Glowstone. Why don’t we break the ice and pick the shards underneath it? There are enough crystals in this corridor alone to arm an entire battalion.”
The five of them paused, weighing the idea.
“It’s worth a try,” Nahir said, unsheathing a blade. It was as long as Aric’s arm, but in Nahir’s hand, it looked like a kitchen knife.
The Cyrinian stabbed the wall, but the transparent surface remained intact so he did it again, and again. The stabs didn’t create a single dent. With a grunt, Nahir swung the knife back, then hammered the wall so hard it would have split a man two.
BUUUUM!
It was as if a ceiling had just caved in, except the wall remained intact while Nahir was sent flying backwards across the hall. He cringed as he stood back up.
“Are you alright?” Clea asked.
The Cyrinian said yes with a nod while Leth and Aric inspected the unscathed layer of ice in utter disbelief.
“What just happened?” Aric asked.
No one answered. Instead, from somewhere within the bowels of that place, came a long, drawn out screech that felt like cold hands wrapping around their spines.
“Ava mother…” Clea said, stepping backwards.
Athan closed his eyes and began to pray.
Quicker than she could blink her eyes, Irenya jumped into Orisius’s arms. By the time she realized she had done so, the sound had already faded away.
“I’m sorry,” she said, letting Orisius go.
“That’s ok,” the green eyed boy replied. “Nothing to be sorry for.”
“Take it easy, little girl,” Prion told her. “That’s just the wind playing tricks with the tunnels.”
“I know that!” she snapped.
“Well,” Ashur said. “That is definitely the sun.” He was perched atop a stone, peering through a small hole in what looked like a very large, stone trap-door. He jumped down with a satisfied smile. “Let’s get this thing open and get the heck out of here.”
“What about the others?” Irenya asked.
“We’ll fetch them when this is open,” Ashur replied. “Come on, push.” He placed both hands on the door and waited for the others to join him. “One, two….”
They pushed until their faces became bright red.
“Fire take this…” Prion said, panting. “It won’t move a hair.”
They stopped to catch their breaths, then tried pushing again.
“It’s useless,” Orisius said, sweat breaking out on his forehead. “It won’t budge.” He sat on the ground, breathless. “I think we’re entombed in here.”
“Don’t say that,” Irenya pleaded.
“Sorry,” Orisius replied, lying on his back. “I didn’t mean it.”
“Yes you did,” Ashur said. “Those sadists buried us here to die!”
“Why would they do something like that?” Irenya asked.
“She’s right,” Orisius agreed. “We just need to find some Glowstone, like Nahir said.”
Ashur kicked a pebble, cur
sing.
“I agree, Ash,” Prion said. “It kinda makes sense.”
“Nothing about this makes sense…” Ashur replied, “but I agree that it’s the best idea we got.”
They started back through where they had come in, making a different turn before arriving at the chamber where they had woken.
Then another one of those chilling noises came from down the corridor, making Irenya jump.
“Did you hear that?” she asked.
“Hear what?” Orisius asked.
They had found a T junction. Ashur signaled Jullion to inspect the corridor on the left while he turned to the right. Irenya stayed put, looking behind and hugging herself.
“Want my jacket?” Orisius asked her.
Irenya trembled a little. “No.”
“Hey, guys…” Jullion called from beyond the corner. “You should take a look at this.”
Ashur emerged from the other corridor and they followed Jullion’s voice. Their jaws dropped. Around the corner was the top of a stairwell from which you could see a massive cave opening. No, not a cave. It was a hall. The floor was tiled and there were dozens of warrior statues guarding a door as tall as a tower.
“I sure hope that door is not what I think it is…” Jullion said.
“Maybe it’s a vault,” Orisius murmured, “where the Glowstone is kept.”
That sounded plausible enough. Or at least, they all hoped it did.
Exhaling loudly, Orisius walked down the stairwell and the others followed. They meandered between the statues and the hall echoed each of their steps. Blue lights, scattered above in the tall ceiling, sparkled like blue fireflies.
“Look at this,” Jullion said, touching the metal surface of the colossal gate. It was covered with outcropping glyphs that reflected the blue lights in the ceiling. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Is it metal?” Ashur placed a hand on it and pushed. “It must weigh more than a Dragon. What do you think these symbols mean?”
“These aren’t symbols, you moron,” Irenya told him. “These are blood runes.”
“How would you know?”
“I was locked in a cell in the Blood House of Capra before coming to Lamash.”
“You were in prison?” Orisius asked.
Jullion swung around. “Did anyone see that?”
“It’s… a long story,” Irenya told Orisius.
“Seriously,” Jullion insisted. “Did anyone see something over there?”
Everyone looked at where he was pointing but found nothing except shadows.
“It’s just the statues,” Ashur said, turning back towards the door. “I bet the crystals are in there. You know, like a treasure.”
“Yeah,” Orisius agreed. “We just need to find a way to open it.”
“Merciful Ava!” Jullion screamed. He took several steps back. “There’s something moving between the statues.”
“Sure, Jules,” Prion said. “They’re coming to life.”
Ashur laughed, but his chuckles were cut by a guttural screech that echoed tenfold.
Irenya felt her heart sinking through her stomach. “Run!” she yelled.
Dashing through the corner, Dothea stepped on a patch of ice. Her foot lost its traction and she crashed to the floor. She heard something crack and howled.
Tharius was right behind her and he didn’t as much as slow down. Grabbing the collar of her shirt, he heaved her up and spurred her forward. Trying to ignore the pain shooting through her arm, Dothea looked over her shoulder, making sure Trissa, Ergon, and Lyra were still following.
“Quick! They’re getting closer,” Ergon screamed, pushing Trissa and his sister forward.
Dothea kept running, scanning the floor ahead of her, careful not to step on the ice again. The arm she had fallen on felt funny, with a tingling sensation that seemed to be turning into pain. A savage growl disfigured her expression with fear and she looked over her shoulder again. Whatever those things were, they looked hideous. She saw the three creatures chasing them turn the same corner she just had. One of them slipped on an ice patch and rasped its blueish, scaly skin against the wall. With swift, feline movements it quickly regained its balance and resumed the chase, letting out a wolf-like growl.
The corridor turned another corner, and Dothea nearly crashed against a wall. What chamber was this? Where were they?
Oh no… this is not where we came in.
Her head spun, checking the room for an exit. There was only one door. She tried it with the others in tow.
“It’s locked!” Dothea told them.
They turned around. The creatures were closing in, snarling.
“Quick, the statues! Grab a spear!” Trissa said.
There was a statue on each side of the room. Two powerfully armored warriors were standing watch with spears at the ready. Trissa grabbed the one on the right, Ergon went for the one on the left.
“Oh, Goddess…” Lyra said, backing into the wall.
“We’ll have to knock the door down,” Tharius said, pushing Dothea out of the way.
“No,” she said. “You’ll just break a leg or something. Let me. I can open it.” She removed a small leather pouch from her jacket’s inner pocket. “I had this in my pocket when I woke up.”
“What’s that?” Tharius asked.
“My pickset,” Dothea replied. She opened the pouch and removed a couple of thin metal tools. “This is what I did for a living.”
“Here they come!” Ergon screamed.
“Help them,” Dothea told Tharius. “I can do this.”
Tharius nodded, still looking confused, then joined the others.
Closing her eyes, Dothea took a deep breath.
I’m on the beach, she told herself, kneeling in front of the door.
“Get ready,” she heard Tharius saying from somewhere behind her.
I’ve done this hundreds of times.
She was so focused she didn’t even notice Trissa swinging a spear above her head and smashing it down on one of the creature’s necks. The thing fell to the ground, its head twisted in an impossible way, then hissed and quickly jumped back up.
Breathing steadily, Dothea inserted the torsion wrench into the lock, trying to ignore the pain in her arm. She turned the wrench, putting the lock into tension, then slid the pick along the locking orifice, feeling each pin with careful strokes.
Behind her, the battle raged. Pushing Lyra behind his back, Ergon stabbed one of the monsters, sending it hurling backwards.
“Did you see that?!” Ergon screamed. “They don’t bleed!”
I’m not here. I’m at the port. Seagulls are singing. Waves are crashing against the seawall.
Click!
The first pin locked into position and Dothea exhaled loudly, her eyes still shut and a drop of sweat rolling down her forehead.
Roaring, Trissa smashed the butt of her spear against the jaw of a monster, sending it reeling. The swing made her lose balance and exposed her back to another creature standing right next to the one she had hit. It grabbed Trissa’s neck and shirt, hissing.
“No!” Tharius screamed, kicking the thing in the gut. For a moment, he almost expected his foot to burst into flames or something.
Click!
Another pin locked into position. Dothea adjusted the pressure on the torsion wrench, being more careful than ever in her life. She couldn’t risk having to start the process all over again. The pain on her arm, however, was getting a bit too hard to ignore.
Click!
Only two left to go.
Behind her claws hacked and slashed wildly, barely kept at bay by Ergon’s spear.
“Lyra, stand back,” Ergon said.
His sister wanted to help. She was unarmed, just like Tharius, so she tried to mimic him and kick the monsters away. One of them grabbed her leg.
“Ergon!” she screamed.
Eyes widened, the boy wrapped an arm around his sister, pulling her. It left him with only one hand availab
le to handle the lance, but the weapon was made of solid iron or something just as heavy. There was no way Ergon could wield it with just one hand. It left him completely exposed. One of the creatures attacked and four streaks of blood gushed from Ergon’s torso. He screamed with pain but managed to head-butt the creature and free his sister from its hold.
At the sound of Ergon’s cry Tharius spun behind him, took the spear from him, and tripped the monsters legs with a swing. He wasn’t even aware that he could move that fast.
“I did it!” Dothea jumped with her arms in the air. The door slid open. “Quick, through here.”
She held the door open, rushing the others with hand waves.
“Go!” Tharius said, swinging his spear at the monster’s legs, making sure all three of the beasts were either fallen or trying to get back up.
He was the last to get through, and just as he crossed Dothea slammed the door behind him. With a twirl, Tharius slipped the spear through the ring of the handle and placed it diagonally, barring the door from opening again. The door shook and trembled, horrible shrieks coming from the other side, but the spear kept it in place.
“Guys…” Trissa called.
Dothea and Tharius turned around. Ergon was on the floor, bleeding badly.
“I need water,” Lyra said, tearing the sleeve of her tunic. “I need water!”
“He won’t able to walk,” Tharius said, flatly. The sounds of punching and scratching and howling came from across the door. “We need to get out of here.”
Lyra sniffed and wiped a tear from her eyes. “I have to stop the bleeding first.”
The other three exchanged a glance.
“There’s no time, Lyra,” Trissa said.
Somehow the screeching and thundering became louder.
Lyra sobbed, but her hands picked up speed, wrapping her brother’s wound with her own rags. It made Ergon flinch and groan but he didn’t complain.
“I’ll carry him,” Tharius said.
“Are you mad?” Dothea asked. “He’s too heavy.”
“I need to stop the bleeding first,” Lyra insisted.
Ergon grabbed her arm and forced her to stop.
“Sis, I need stiches. You can’t stop the bleeding.”
“I’ll…” Lyra paused and her head spun around as if looking for something. “I’ll make a needle out of something.”
The Dragon Hunter and the Mage Page 15