by Sever Bronny
When they reached the black wall, it turned out to be far steeper than it appeared from so far away. Walking around it would take them all night and was out of the question.
Augum consulted the map again. He glanced up, estimating a hundred foot climb or so. “Should just be right on top of that ledge there. What degree will teach us how to arcanely fly?” he asked half-jokingly.
Leera craned her neck and grimaced. “Don’t think that kind of spell exists. I’ve certainly never heard of a warlock flying about like some bird.”
He put away the map and untied himself—no sense in both of them dying if one lost their purchase, or if the harpies came back in the middle of their climb. “Grim thought.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. I’ll go first—”
“Forget it, we’re racing.”
“What—? Are you crazy?” but she had already begun.
Augum chased after her. Both struggled at first, but soon were climbing capably.
“Bridget would never have gotten past this,” Leera said halfway up.
“Just don’t look down or you’ll start screaming like her.”
“Keep dreaming, scruffster—and I’m winning, by the way.”
“ ’Scruffster’?” He couldn’t help but snort a laugh, which cost him precious race time—she was the first to reach the ledge and haul herself up. He made it soon after. She extended her hand and lugged him over.
“What do I get?” she asked, smirking.
He brushed the snow off his knees. Those freckled cheeks looked cuter than ever. What he really wanted to say was she won a kiss. Instead, he said, “You get to live,” and strode past her, feeling stupid.
“How exciting …”
He turned, pointed at her with both hands. “Scruffbutt.”
She made a face. “That’s just stupid,” but smiled.
“Wit never was my thing.”
“Then you should be taking notes from me.”
Ahead was what looked like an obelisk surrounded by a circle of small boulders. Far behind, the mountain continued to rise, peak bloody in the failing sun. They neared cautiously. The obelisk was about eight feet high and made from black basalt. Runes marked its entire face.
Leera took off her mitt, running her fingers across them. “Some of these look kind of familiar, don’t they?”
He nodded. “The bronze servant diagram in castle Arinthian.” It was located in the castle cellar. He recalled having a lot of fun deciphering it. Seemed like years ago now.
“Damn,” Leera said. “We don’t have the blue book with us.”
“But we do have the next-best thing.” He dug out the Orb of Orion. “Nana, are you there?” There was no response. “Nana, can you hear me!”
Leera dropped her rucksack. “She’s probably busy. Set it down on top, in case Mrs. Stone tries to look through.”
Augum dropped his rucksack on hers and placed the orb on top. He strolled back to the obelisk. “Now let’s see what we can make of these …”
Leera pulled at something yellow in the snow. “What’s this—?” She lifted what appeared to be a stick before yelping and tossing it away.
“What?”
“It’s a bone—!”
“Maybe it’s just an animal bone …”
They exchanged doubtful glances before returning to the runes.
“Might be a code or something,” Leera said, standing back.
“Shyneo.” Augum’s hand lit up. He touched one of the runes and was surprised to see it light up, fading a short time later.
They exchanged another look.
“Shyneo,” Leera said, reaching for a rune. It began glowing as soon as she touched it. She touched another one in quick succession.
“Leera wait, maybe we should—”
The air split with the sound of an implosive crunch just after she touched a fourth symbol. They turned around to see a giant distorted skeleton, its head oversized, eyes childlike yet vacant and malignant. Strips of wet cloth hung off its decaying frame. It slowly raised its giant clawed hands and hissed.
A rotten stench filled the air.
Portus Ea Ire Itum
Augum just managed to summon his lightning shield in time to block the wraith’s swipe. The force of the blow sent him tumbling backwards, head nearly smacking one of the boulders.
“Watch out!” he called as the thing raked at Leera. She rolled away, scrambling behind the obelisk. It turned its attention back to him as he got to his feet.
He shoved the air. “Baka!” but the Push spell had no effect on the hulking wraith.
Leera threw at the ground. “Grau!” There was the sound of an enormous volume of water crashing. The wraith looked up, but when it saw nothing above it, refocused on Augum.
“We really need to learn some offensive spells,” Leera said, keeping the obelisk between herself and the wraith.
The wraith shot forward suddenly. Augum raised his shield and again was sent flying through the air, landing well behind the circle of stones. His arm hurt from the impact and he tasted blood in his mouth. The cut on his head he’d sustained falling down the crevasse had reopened.
“Mrs. Stone, can you hear us!” Leera shouted as she danced around the obelisk. The wraith made playful swipes at her that would have been deadly if they connected. “We really could use your help—!”
Augum thought he had no choice. Since Nana wasn’t able to hear them, he had to try Centarro. Maybe it would show him a path out of this mess—
Except Leera beat him to it.
“Centeratoraye xao xen!” she said, dropping low like a cat poised to strike. Her movements became fluid and effortless. Instead of overreacting to the strikes, she barely dodged them, using just enough movement to avoid it.
Her brows scrunched as she studied the monster. It hissed and shook its arms, as if frustrated, before renewing its effort. At one point, she allowed its giant skull to get so close she actually slapped the thing. It reared back like an angry bull and began slashing wildly at her. She jumped and danced, always just out of its reach.
Suddenly she skirted through its legs, running along their path from the cliff. The wraith followed, hissing. Augum stumbled after, unsure how to help. She reached the cliff and turned around. “Get ready!” she called.
Ready? Ready for what? He ran as fast as he could to catch up. The wraith charged at her. This time, she feigned going through its legs before twirling aside.
“Now!” she called. “Baka!”
“Baka!” he echoed, making the push gesture.
The wraith was turning back to face them just as their spells hit it. The combined force was enough to send it over the edge, hissing.
Augum ran up to the cliff and looked down. He could see the thing slam into the bottom, sending up a great plume of snow. He watched a little while longer. It did not move.
“That was awesome—” he began to say just as Leera stepped into thin air right beside him. He instinctively snatched her hand and sent her swinging into his arms.
She looked into his eyes, a silly expression on her face. “Pretty,” she mumbled, resting her head on his shoulders.
“I got you,” he said, half-carrying, half-dragging her away from the edge. “Just relax. It’s the after-effects of Centarro …” He took her all the way back to the obelisk and sat with her, enjoying holding her. He made gentle soothing motions on her back to calm her. Eventually, she looked right at him and reddened. “What happened?” She asked, removing her arms from around his neck.
“Centarro.”
“Oh, right …”
“Guess we can’t just press the runes randomly and see what happens,” he said.
“Guess not … sorry about that.”
“Hello? Either of you there?” came a tinny voice from the orb. They rushed over and placed their ears to it.
“We’re here, Mrs. Stone!” Leera said.
“I am glad to hear it. I do not have much time, but I notice you have
discovered a portal pillar.”
“Is that what it is?” Augum asked. “It almost tried to kill us.”
“That is to weed out the unwanted. You must tap out the arcane phrase that makes up the Portal spell, tapping the destination rune last.”
“What are the words of the Portal spell?” Leera asked.
“This is why arcaneology class is so important at the academy. You will simply have to remember the following: portus ea ire itum. The symbols are an oval; a square with two upside-down triangles facing each other; a square divided down the middle vertically not horizontally; and a letter ‘T’ with eyes.”
“No way,” Augum mouthed, pointing at his head. Memorize all that? How?
Leera nodded with a frown. “Mrs. Stone, wait,” she said, “let me write that in the snow. Can you please repeat it one more time?”
“Merciful spirits, I shall only repeat it once more, there are hurt people here who urgently need my attention.”
Of course, Augum realized—she’s in Tiberra.
“All right, I think I got it,” Leera said, finishing writing all the symbols. “Thank you and goodbye, Mrs. Stone!”
“Bye, Nana!”
The oval was the easiest to find followed by the square divided down the middle.
“It’s getting dark, we should move this along,” Leera said, checking the fading horizon. The wind increased, threatening to blow the symbols in the snow away.
“Here’s the double triangle one,” Augum said.
“—and I just found the ‘T’ with eyes, though they’re just dots.” She reached to press the oval, but Augum grabbed her wrist just in time.
“Forgetting something?”
“Oh, right, the destination symbol.”
He let go and they examined the face. The problem was it was eight feet high, and there were a few runes out of reach up there.
“What would an Occi symbol look like …” Leera mumbled to herself, stalking the obelisk.
“What about this one?” He stabbed a finger at a group of skulls squished into a square.
“Grim, but promising … I see another one way up there.” She pointed at a symbol of a skull with a triangular hat at the very top of the obelisk. “Kind of looks like a roof, doesn’t it?”
He nodded. “Here’s one.” He pointed at a headless skeleton inside a square.
“And I see a fourth one near the very top again, other side,” she said. “Getting too dark to see though …”
Augum squinted. “I can just make out a bunch of skulls under a roof.”
“But which one of these is it …?”
They examined the rest of the obelisk but found no others that fit their idea of what the Occi symbol would be.
“These two down here don’t make sense,” he said.
“I agree,” Leera said. “That narrows it down to two.”
“Right—we’ve got a bunch of skeletons under one roof or a single skull under one roof.”
“Since it’s a village, I’m guessing it’s the bunch of skulls.”
“Agreed. So now the question is, do we camp here for the night or see what’s on the other end …”
Leera’s eyes widened as she looked past his shoulder to the cliff, from which came a distinct hissing noise. “Looks like we don’t have a choice …”
Augum reacted immediately by snatching their rucksacks and the Orb of Orion. “You trigger them and I’ll boost you up for the last one.”
“On it—Shyneo!” She began smacking the runes in order, lighting them up.
He brought his hands together and she stepped on them.
“It’s almost here—” Leera said, looking over his shoulder.
He hoisted her up, but as he did so, the first rune went dark, quickly followed by the second. “Wait!” he called. “They’re snuffing out.”
She glanced behind him again and paled. “We’ve got to do something—”
“Quick! Step on my shoulders!”
She did, her boots digging the rucksack ropes in further.
“Shyneo!” he said. He smacked the first symbol, then the second, but the third was just out of reach—and the hissing was practically at his neck.
Leera suddenly gripped the edge of the obelisk and swung down to smack it, before shooting back up. Augum smelled the decay and heard the whistling swing of the wraith’s claw just as an implosive crunch yanked the two of them away.
The Occi
Augum and Leera fell onto rocky ground, nauseous from the teleportation.
“You all right?” Augum wheezed.
“Yeah … you?”
He nodded, trying not to throw up, immediately noticing the air was thin and hard to breathe here. His heart palpitated wildly.
Torches burned a ways away and there was the sound of echoed chanting. The wavering light threw leaping shadows on the most gigantic cavern he had ever seen. It was cone-shaped, jagged top open to the darkening sky.
Leera quietly stood. “What is this, are we in some kind of mountain?”
“Keep your voice down. Looks like it. Those must be the Occi.”
It was so cold here he shivered even inside his coat, yet there was no snow anywhere. Behind them was the portal pillar. The ground was strewn with sand, boulders, shrubs, and twisted trees with fruit that looked like bulging sacks of blood.
“That must be the bloodfruit.” He ran to one of the trees, yanked three squishy fruits, and quickly returned, putting them into his rucksack, hoping they wouldn’t burst. “Now we just have to find the location of Bahbell and somehow get our hands on an Occi horn …”
“I think we lost our minds coming here,” Leera mumbled, watching the distant fires. “Not that we had much of a choice …”
The chanting suddenly stopped.
“Uh oh,” he said as torches rose in the air.
They sneaked behind a boulder as the mass of torches began bobbing in their direction.
“Great, now what do we do?” Leera asked. “Can’t exactly outrun them with no exit …”
“Maybe we shouldn’t hide—makes us look suspicious.”
“So what, we should just face them?” She paused. “Well we better do it now then.”
They stepped out from behind the boulder, awaiting the mob. “I think we did lose our minds coming here,” he said as the crowd fanned out before them. There must have been over a hundred, all wearing the same crimson robes with an embroidered black skull over the heart, three dots in the shape of a triangle decorating the forehead of the skull. Knives hung in sheathes on hemp rope belts, along with carved ornate horns. Their faces were gaunt, some even deathly, as if melted by fire. Some were missing eyes, others noses or their lower jaw. Their hair, even the children’s, was wispy, gray and wild. Bones peeked through their stretched skin, skin that ranged in tones from Henawa porcelain to Sierran ebony, and every color in between, including a few blues and reds.
A particularly tall chocolate-skinned woman with random tufts of silver hair pushed the crowd aside. She was the only one without a torch.
“Soiled unworthies …” she said in a dreamy voice.
“Soiled unworthies,” the crowd echoed in monotone.
“They must be purified …”
The crowd nodded along. “They must be purified …”
Her arm slowly rose and a long crooked finger extended to point at Augum and Leera. “Into the pot they go …”
“Boiled and purified.” The crowd stepped forward. “Into the pot they go …”
“Shyneo!” Augum said instinctively, Leera following.
The crowd hissed at their palms. Whispers abounded.
“Warlocks …” the tall woman said in that hypnotic voice. “Warlocks shall be given the gift …”
“Given the gift …”
“Come …” The woman gracefully extended her hand in the direction of the village behind her. The throng parted, clearing a path.
Augum and Leera exchanged anxious looks before stepping through. The
crowd whispered as they passed.
“Come …”
“Unworthies …”
“The master awaits …”
Augum and Leera held their rucksacks close as these gaunt people followed with glazed eyes. The woman led, walking patiently, hands folded in front, entering a tiny village of stick huts loosely gathered around three central fires that burned a greenish hue. A giant cauldron sat on top of one fire, bubbling and steaming. A lumpy stake jutted from the second fire. As the pair walked by, they discovered a man impaled upon it.
“Unnameables …” Leera cursed.
“There will be no blasphemy …” the woman said quietly, her words repeated in whispers by the crowd. “Here, we worship the master, the one and only Lord of Death … You shall bow before him as we do … You shall be given the gift …”
“The gift …” echoed the crowd.
The woman pointed to a dark trail leading to the outline of a seated figure.
“The master awaits …”
“Follow the path …” some in the crowd whispered. “Worship the master …”
Augum’s heart wouldn’t stop thundering in his chest as the question rattled around in his brain—who was the master?
The woman was now beside them. Her arm slowly rose and she flicked her wrist. A line of torches burst aflame, circling the figure, revealing an armored skeleton with a wide head, on top of which sat a crown of bone. One hand held a barbed scepter, the top of it an iron skull; the other rested on a glass globe. His throne was made entirely from bone, an elaborate, towering structure with a wide peacock-like fan on the back made from human leg bones, the feet and toes pointing out as if frozen in eternal agony.
“Kneel and say his name …” the woman said.
“Unworthies shall kneel … say his name,” the crowd said.
Leera gave Augum an uncertain look.
“Kneel … or boil …” came the woman’s silky voice.
“What’s his name?” Leera mouthed as she kneeled alongside him.
It had to be Occulus, Augum thought, it had to be … or they were as good as dead.
“Occulus,” he said aloud, taking the risk.