Kitalla was covered head to toe in metallic spikes, not unlike an angry porcupus. She had charged and leaped into the air, throwing her whole body into the beast’s backside, effectively stabbing it hundreds of times simultaneously. While single wounds barely affected the beast, the large-scale assault hurt it badly. Gabrion returned to the ursalor, realizing suddenly that even though it couldn’t reach its paws around to swat at her, if the creature toppled onto its back, Kitalla would be crushed and it didn’t look like she was having any luck dislodging herself.
The warrior yelled aloud as he ran in, waving his sword in challenge and cutting into the ursalor’s belly. He hacked again and again, bending out of harm’s way as the front paws swung for him. He could hear Kitalla straining to free herself, as Dariak chanted spells of his own from a few paces away. In the end, Randler saved Kitalla. The horses had mostly settled and the bard rushed in, grabbing carefully around Kitalla’s outer spikes, and pulled her free. She hit the ground with a thud and the two of them sprinted off to catch their breaths. Gabrion, meanwhile kept batting at the bear, preventing it from running after them.
“Ferrizonniar hydallicos binndicus!” Dariak screamed, sweeping his arms in wide arcs before his body. He repeated the incantation three more times, stepping closer to the ursalor with each repetition. The creature’s actions grew slower and slower as Dariak worked to freeze the creature’s wet fur, trapping it in an icy prison all its own. The difficulty lay in the immense size of the monster and its powerful muscles that kept breaking through the ice itself.
Even slowing it down was helpful to Gabrion, however, and as the ursalor struggled against the freezing menace, it toppled over again, shaking the ground, but making itself more vulnerable. Gabrion dashed around the flailing limbs and sought the massive skull. It was larger than the fully unhinged jaw of a tigroar and he didn’t want to think about how much of his body could have fit inside at once. The head tossed around in frustration as Dariak also froze the mud underneath the creature, adding to its slow confinement. The ripping fur echoed as the ursalor tried righting itself, but the pain alone kept it grounded. Gabrion at last reached its skull and he called to the jade within his pocket, declaring his need of a sharp impact at this moment. He didn’t know if the jade responded, but he plunged the sword into the creature’s head, just below the base of the skull and deep into its brain. With a final spine-chilling wail, the ursalor fell still.
Without waiting, Dariak ran to his horse and threw healing spells in its direction, mending the gashes it had received. Sensing its new master close by, the palomino stood as still as its wounds would allow. They luckily weren’t particularly deep and a few repetitions were all Dariak needed to ensure the steed’s safety.
Kitalla was particularly exhausted from her dagger-spike routine and quietly mounted her horse, clutching the reins and waiting to be off again. Not long later, the rest of the team joined her, and Randler took the lead toward Vestular.
The best part about their battle with the ursalor was the blood smattered all over Gabrion’s clothes. When other creatures ventured nearby and whiffed the scent, they turned and fled. Apparently, if he had survived an ursalor attack, then they were no match for his prowess. Several groups of beasts charged the group, only to scurry in fear once the wind carried the stench to them. Dariak made a mental note, thinking ursalor blood would probably make a powerful spell component, not that he was about to head back toward the monster’s corpse and try to claim some.
They pushed the horses hard throughout the wet day and reached Vestular in the middle of the night. The town was dark with the exception of a few street torches, but Randler knew the way to the All Tumble Inn. He let Gabrion enter to negotiate rooms, as he needed to remain incognito. Though there were no other guests at the inn, the keeper only offered one room for lodging and access to the stable for the horses. Kitalla was still weary and didn’t even try picking the lock of another room so she could have her own private quarters. The four of them stripped off their wet belongings and wrapped themselves into blankets before settling down for the rest of the night.
Gabrion awoke first the next day and he went to the innkeeper, requesting four meals, which he then brought up to the room. The innkeeper was unhelpful, providing the food and drink but making Gabrion take three trips to carry it all upstairs himself.
The companions ate solemnly, feeling much better now that they were dry and rested, yet knowing a difficult day lay ahead. “We can’t tarry here for long,” Randler reminded them. “People will be inquisitive and we won’t escape notice. If we’re going to make a play for the jade, it has to be soon. She must be caught by surprise or all is lost.”
Gabrion shook his head sadly. “To think you speak of your own mother with such loathing.” He looked at Randler who was about to argue back. Then he remembered Randler telling them about the mercenaries his mother had hired to hunt the bard down. “Sorry, just thinking out loud. You’ve already explained.”
Within the hour, the four had filtered from the inn, one at a time, meeting at a discreet location of Randler’s choosing. Once they were there, he pointed out the path that led to his old home, where his mother would be tending to her garden or hiding in the basement with her spells. The only thing they couldn’t agree upon was who would go first. Gabrion argued that it should be himself, that he could be a lost traveler in search of aid. Kitalla reminded them that her greatest skill was that of stealth and so she would be the best to lead the march, even though she was still weak and aching from the spike dance. Yet Dariak overruled them, claiming that only he could truly assess the protective wards she would surely have in place. There wasn’t much they could argue to that, and so Dariak went ahead with the others not too far behind.
From the outside, Randler’s home was disheveled and small. It seemed as if there was only one main room, perhaps a sleeping quarter and a kitchen area, but nothing else. It wasn’t tall enough for a second floor and Dariak thought back to Randler’s tale of his father being a performer, realizing suddenly that the man had been raised in total squalor. Patches were missing from the roof and the door didn’t fit its hinges properly. In some regards, it appeared deserted, but the energies surrounding it said otherwise.
Dariak stretched his hands out wide, sealing his eyes shut to feel the energy patterns. There was an intricate quilt of protection woven through and around the structure, something that must have taken years to properly establish. He wondered how much of it was perpetual and how many aspects of it needed periodic resetting. Yet he couldn’t dwell on it for long, for as Randler stepped forward, a particular section of the shields trembled in reaction.
“Stay!” Dariak hissed, trying to wave Randler back. The violet light weaving through the house reminded Dariak vividly of the death spell that Elgris had tried using against him. To think a trap of such magnitude surrounded the house, targeted specifically for Randler! “If you walk through that door, you die,” he said over his shoulder. “But how?”
As he pondered a counterspell, the need for one evaporated. Randler’s mother opened the front door and crossed her arms in front of her, leaning against the doorjamb, taunting them. “Well, well, well, my little boy returns.”
Dariak felt immense power emanating from her. She wasn’t a tall woman and her brown hair was a dusty mockery of Randler’s. She carried a bit of girth about her waist and her back was somewhat hunched over, as if she had spent too many years poring through spell books. Her clothes were plain, but Dariak couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t intentional. There was too much strength exuding from her for her to be weak and poor.
Randler stepped forward. “Greetings, mother. I hear you’ve been looking for me.”
She cackled with a haughty laugh. “Oh, how droll.” She swept her hand across the threshold, inviting them inside. Dariak could sense that the protective spells in the doorway were disrupted now that the portal was opened, but they weren’t dispelled. Once that door closed, he knew the death s
pell and all the others would be back in place.
“This isn’t safe,” Randler muttered to Dariak.
“It’s either walk away or go inside. We can’t exactly start attacking, can we?”
“Well?” she demanded, stepping back and holding the door open.
Rolling her eyes, Kitalla pushed past Dariak and Randler and strode inside. The others followed close on her heels. When the door closed, Dariak felt the weave press shut, sealing them inside completely. He wondered how long it would take for him to dispel enough of the enchantments so they could even escape.
“Welcome, friends of Randler, I am Sharice. I would offer you a drink, but no doubt my son will have warned you of poison or another such form of nonsense.” She stalked across the room with purpose, heading toward a dividing wall in the center of the floor plan and leaning against it.
“We have come for the shard,” Dariak declared, deciding to end the charades.
Sharice cackled wildly. “Have you now? You’re powerful enough. Challenge me for it.” Her toothy grin was unnerving.
“It’s a trap,” Randler warned.
“Trap indeed,” she nodded. “But then you don’t have a choice, really.” She turned to Dariak for confirmation. “You already know how well this place is secured.”
“It’s true. What, then, are the terms of your challenge?”
“My jade for all of yours,” she grinned. “Oh yes, I could feel them all quite well when you entered last night. Who was it, do you think, that taught Randler how to find the rest?”
“You lie!” the bard yelled defensively.
“Do I? Well, it isn’t like you ever needed my help claiming the shards anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Kitalla asked, focusing on the woman’s use of the plural.
Sharice clutched her hand to her heart. “He didn’t tell you of his great plunder of Halrone’s lair?”
“We know of it,” Dariak said.
“Mother,” Randler interrupted. “Hand over your piece before you’re hurt. You have no need of it any longer.”
But she wasn’t fooled. “How much did he tell you of his heist? Not all of it, I presume?”
Randler stepped forward, face burning red and fists clenched. “I told them what I took and how you tried claiming that treasure from me. I couldn’t let you have it.”
“‘That treasure’? Son, you do craft your words well. I see now that you told them only a part of the whole, isn’t that so? Shouldn’t you entrust your truth to your companions?” She twisted her fingers and threw a silencing shroud over Randler. Dariak noticed she hadn’t spoken any words aloud, a sign of a truly gifted mage.
Sharice shook her head and sighed. “My dear son took not one shard from Halrone, but three. He has one with him, I sense.” She then looked at Dariak. “Oh, and he gave you one too.”
Randler averted his gaze from Dariak, still unable to speak. The mage looked from son to mother. “What do you mean?”
“That one with the sparks. Yes, he took that from Halrone. You didn’t know?” She delighted in the colors of Randler’s face as the information struck home.
Dariak kept himself composed but Gabrion spoke at last. “Wait! Quereth said they obtained that piece from an anonymous donor.” Sharice lifted her spell, wondering how her son would react to the tension suddenly filling the room.
“Yes,” Randler warbled. “I had the lightning shard and I turned it over to one of the mages when I reached Pindington. It wasn’t supposed to end up in the tower until later, but the mage was apparently too eager to examine it.” He faced Dariak, awaiting the brunt of his betrayal.
The mage drew in a steadying breath and released it slowly. Instead of addressing Randler, however, he turned to the bard’s mother. “It is in my possession now. Give me your shard and I will let you live.”
Sharice laughed and clapped her hands together. “How wonderful! Yes, yes, come along!” She walked around the wall, heading toward a set of stairs that led down.
“Dariak—” Randler started.
“No. You were set on separating the jades and keeping me from uniting them. That was before we even reunited in Pindington.” He stepped toward the kitchen and the door into the basement, but then he looked over his shoulder. “But if you do have another one stashed away somewhere, I hope you will lead me to it next.” Without waiting for a response, he followed Sharice into the darkness below.
Dariak kept his senses alert and discovered strong magical energies emanating from the walls. He didn’t detect any malice in the spells, and he reasoned that they were in place to support the upper and lower structures. His guess wasn’t far from the truth, and he realized how close he was when he stepped into Sharice’s work room.
The underground chamber was vast. It spanned many yards across in both directions with a high ceiling that held up the house and her land. Worktables and benches lined the walls with blue-lit torches hovering eerily overhead. They cast a strange pallor to the room, making everything seem coated in mist. The tables themselves were covered with numerous spell components and a wide range of exotic plants, complete with massive, thorny vines hanging about.
The woman strode across the floor toward a staff that leaned against the wall. It was a well-whittled staff from a much larger branch, fortified with streamers of wrapped steel and topped with a glowing crystalline crown. Even from where he stood, Dariak could feel the power of the jade within the staff. She had done well to unlock its secrets and, from its pulsing light, it was eager to lash out.
Before the others could join them, Sharice lifted her arms and the stairwell behind Dariak closed shut with an impenetrable wall. It sounded like sliding stone but the odd material was translucent and cold to the touch, not quite glass but something he hadn’t ever felt before.
“Once I have your jades,” Sharice said by way of greeting, “I will hunt down the rest, starting with the three your friends have with them.”
“You know much. You would make a better ally than a foe.”
“Only a fool who is about to die says such things,” she taunted. “I will have the jades and none will stand in my way.” She turned the staff in her hand, creating a large circle of light in front of her. A fog appeared and she was blurred from view.
Dariak pulled his energies tightly around himself and set up some protective spells, not yet understanding what form of attack she would unleash. “I would rid this land of its ban on magic, Sharice. Then you and I could work our skills to their best advantage.”
She barked a laugh. “And what makes you think I don’t do so already?” She tilted her staff forward and a streak of light shot across the room, piercing through Dariak’s outer enchantment. He heard the glasslike sound shattering in his head as part of his protective spell was defeated, but he focused more on how the shield felt as it collapsed, sensing the power that touched it so he could plan a better defense. He then immediately reset the spell in preparation of the next volley, which came soon after.
“You waste your talents here in the underground,” Dariak said, trying to keep her using small spells until he learned enough about her magic. “You belong in the world above.”
“I don’t disagree with you there,” she said, lashing out with three spikes this time. Though her spells weren’t powerful, she was baiting him into a false sense of confidence, holding back her other skills until the battle erupted completely.
Yet, Dariak wasn’t fooled. “You should join us.”
Her laughter echoed menacingly in the large room. It hit the walls and bounded back, growing louder and louder, until Dariak was distracted enough that her next spell caught him unawares. The full force of the spell shattered his enchantments, cutting through all but the Shield of Delminor and knocking him down. He knew their conversation was over and he reset the protection spells one last time, knowing that once they were up he needed to attack properly.
Sharice swept her staff around, sending blades of force streaking through the air. Dari
ak pulled his hands up sharply, magically lifting stones from the ground to block the attack, after which he punched forward, sending the bits of stone at his attacker. Sharice easily dodged the assault, but Dariak launched ice spikes and caught her off guard.
The woman threw herself to the ground, bringing her staff over her body, further obscuring her from view. To Dariak, she was merely a glowing blur across the way and he knew that if she set down her staff he might not be able to see her at all.
He called to the moisture in the air, drawing strength from the water jade. The humidity deepened until a slow rain fell inside the chamber. A fierce wind retaliated and blew the rain into his face, blinding him. However, he had expected it, having sensed the power of air behind the initial attacks. Dariak drew the water from his eyes and spun it down his body, linking it to the protective wards already in place.
Sharice was on her feet again, tightening the air into sharp darts that she sent through the room, chipping into Dariak’s shields. She summoned with such fury that Dariak was hard-pressed to deflect them all. A few slipped through the wards, breaking a chink in the Shield of Delminor and scoring a hit on his arm. It was minor, but if she could cut through him with simple air darts, her stronger spells would be fearsome indeed.
Once the rain spell ran its course, Dariak pulled the energies toward him, cooling the wet floor until an icy coating was left behind. Sharice cursed as she lost her footing, but she recovered quickly enough by blasting into the layer of ice with more air darts, breaking the surface into a slushy mess. Swinging her arms around her body, she summoned a tornado, which carried the slush toward Dariak, pelting him and knocking him down.
“Is that all you have, little mage?” she yelled. “I haven’t even begun yet!”
Dariak stood up, thoroughly soaked. Sharice set her staff on the ground and raised her hands, chanting aloud for the first time. Her fingers curled angrily and lashed out at Dariak, sending searing bolts of lightning across the room. She cackled madly during the blinding flash, walking forward as her eyes readjusted to the light, ready to step up to her fallen foe.
The Shattered Shards Page 3