The Immortals of Myrdwyer amob-3

by Brian Kittrell

  “I-” Laedron stared at Valyrie, unable to think of any strategy. I hope that I live to see her face in the morning, that we both live to see it out of this mess.

  “Closing on the left,” Brice said. “The right, too. They’re all around us.”

  “A ring of flames.” Tavin snapped his fingers in Laedron’s face. “When they come close, summon fire around us and maintain it for as long as you can.”

  Bobbing his head, Laedron stood at the center of the group and waited for the undead to come near. When they were close enough, he repeated the words for the incantation. It came out a jumbled mess of stuttering.

  “Focus, Sorcerer!” Tavin shot a look at Laedron, then peered at the approaching horde.

  The undead had gotten within a few steps of them. Laedron cast the spell, and a ring of flames rose up around them.

  One by one, the Netheren mindlessly entered the inferno. The dead were engulfed like twigs soaked in lantern fuel, but some continued despite the fire. With his shield, Marac shoved one of the burning creatures back. Brice kicked another, then stomped on the ground to extinguish his pants.

  “It’s working,” Marac said. “They’re-”

  Lunging over the burning wall from the top of a nearby rack, a Netheren grabbed Marac and sent him to the ground. He tried to swing his sword, but he dropped it. The dagger pointed at his chest, Marac pushed up while the creature bore down.

  Pointing her bow upward, Valyrie released an arrow, and it struck another creature dead in its center. The force spell manifested in a flash. The corpse split in two and landed at her feet, and Valyrie drew the bowstring back, searching for another target.

  Losing focus at the sight of Marac beneath the fiend, Laedron had trouble maintaining his spell, and the flames flickered. “Somebody help him.”

  “Keep the spell going before you get us all killed,” Tavin said, pushing past the Brice and delivering a kick to the dead thing’s head. Crushed by the blow, the head erupted with worms and rotten brain matter. Laedron’s stomach grumbled with disgust at the sight. Marac, covered with bits and pieces of some unknown black substance, pushed the dagger away, then clambered to his feet and continued the fight.

  “They’re not as stupid as you thought,” Brice said after slashing a burning corpse and forcing it back into the flames. “Lae, make the fire bigger, taller.”

  Gritting his teeth, Laedron forced the blaze higher, too high for the Netheren to jump over it, and several corpses caught fire when they plunged into the flames. He had just smiled when he heard a voice echo throughout the crypt. He likened the voice to that of a drowning man, but raspier. He slowly turned to see a Netheren standing a hundred feet or more away-past the host of walking corpses-and atop a burial rack.

  Marac walked over to Laedron. “What the…?”

  “A spell!” Tavin raised his wand at the undead mage.

  Laedron tried to control his breathing and lost his focus. Tavin had only gotten out a few words of his incantation when a deluge of water fell upon them. Laedron let his spell fizzle, for the water had put out his fire. Aside from the occasional drip, he heard only silence. He stared across the sea of undead warriors, then heard a rattling of metal against metal. One of the Netheren banged its sword against its shield, then the others joined in the cacophony. The chamber echoed with the clattering of thousands.

  All is lost. Laedron stared at the ground and shook his head. He turned to Tavin, expecting to see a defeated man, but Tavin didn’t seem intimidated. Instead, he called out, “You think dropping water upon us will weaken our resolve? Witness true power.”

  Shouting a spell, Tavin flung his wand toward the enemy sorcerer. A bolt of lightning wound its way across the empty space between them. Upon contact, sparkles of electricity engulfed the undead mage’s body, which exploded in a rain of gore. Arcs of energy shot to nearby creatures, then to more, until every Netheren in a straight line from Tavin either convulsed with the shock or collapsed into a smoking pile of bones and skin.

  “That way,” Tavin said, pointing at the cleared path his spell had made. “Move out before they close the gap.”

  Hot on Tavin’s heels, Laedron glimpsed the dead men encroaching on the left and right. He swashed his scepter to the right and shouted a spell. A fireball erupted from the ruby and slammed into a group of charging corpses, incinerating the ones at the focus and catching the nearby others aflame. Behind him, he heard Valyrie firing arrow after arrow into the Netheren at their left. He turned just as one of the dead men was struck in the leg. When the reanimated corpse fell to the ground, it was trampled by the others.

  “Almost there,” Tavin said.

  Stopping just outside a small opening in the far wall, Tavin took Laedron by the collar and nearly threw him into the passage. “Keep going. Don’t look back.”

  Valyrie came next, and if it hadn’t been for Laedron catching her, she would have fallen. Brice, obviously frightened, squeezed past them. Tavin grabbed Marac by the hand and pulled him inside the shaft.

  Tavin pointed his wand at the ceiling and shouted a spell. A bolt of energy flew from his wand and struck the stone roof. Laedron glanced back to see the undead clawing at each other to get into the tunnel. Tavin pushed them along.

  While he ran, Laedron noticed a crack racing along the stone above and keeping pace with them. We must hurry. He’ll bring the whole place down on us! Then, he heard the crash of rocks behind them, and although he tried to see what had happened, he was forced forward by Tavin’s shoving. He surmised that the collapse had started where Tavin had cast the spell. What else could have caused it? The closer the sound came, the faster Laedron’s heart raced, but he didn’t stop until he reached the next chamber. Exploding through the hole like lava from a volcano, they fell over each other and came to a stop. Rocks slammed down just behind them.

  Laedron stood and took a look around. Stone jutted from the floor and hung from the ceiling like incomplete pillars. The earthen walls seemed to be held together by tangled roots in the spots where the cave wasn’t solid stone. He couldn’t quite tell how light was getting into the cavern, but he was glad it wasn’t pitch black.

  Rising to his feet, Marac glared at Tavin and pointed at the blocked passage. “And how will we get out of here, assuming we survive this? You’ve sealed us in.”

  “The Trappers could never go that way; they’re too large to fit.” Tavin stood and swatted his clothes, a cloud of dust popping out with each slap. “I’ve never ventured into the caves dotting this area, but there must be more than one way out.”

  “Suppose there aren’t any? Suppose we’re stuck here?”

  “Would you rather have been disemboweled by the Netheren? Didn’t think so.”

  Brice, his blade in hand, said, “We could’ve fought them.”

  “No, Brice. We may have killed fifty, but hundreds more were climbing out of their crypts. That’s not counting the hundreds or thousands that were already coming at us.” Laedron stood and massaged his leg to relieve a dull ache, then helped Valyrie to her feet. “We’ll have to find another way out.”

  “Damn!” Valyrie snatched up the bow. Its string was broken. She retrieved her quiver. “A bunch of arrows and nothing to shoot them with.”

  Tavin extended his hand. “Allow me.”

  “Allow you to do what?”

  “Repair it for you, of course.” Taking the bow, Tavin sat on a tall rock and drew his wand.

  “Mages can do that?” she asked.

  Laedron nodded. “If something hasn’t been damaged too badly, it can usually be mended.”

  “More light,” Tavin said, snapping in Laedron’s direction.

  Laedron obliged him with a light spell. With the cavern brightly illuminated, Laedron saw another passage leading off from the chamber and gestured toward it, but his companions must have been enraptured with Tavin’s spell because they paid him no mind. At first, he rolled his eyes at their simple natures. Regular people gawk at even the simplest spells. Then
, he noticed the bowstrings dancing in the air, and he couldn’t help but stare in awe at the display.

  Like trained serpents obeying the commands of their master, the strings wrapped themselves around each other, and energy sparked where they were rejoined. Tavin handed Valyrie the repaired bow. “Now, we should look for a way out of here.”

  Tavin cleared his throat. “Has anyone seen a way out?”

  Laedron snapped out of it, then pointed at the other passage. “Oh, yes. Yes. This way.”

  Tavin walked into the tunnel and led the group along the winding path. Laedron likened the passage to a hole dug by an animal that meandered wildly the entire length. Dampness filled the air, and the musty smell was replaced by the aromas of mildew and earth. Laedron spotted mushrooms caps growing on the walls, worms and centipedes scurrying, and reflections off of the thin streams of water leaking through the tiny fractures. He wondered how long it had been since light of any kind had shone on the black rock in that place.

  Turning a bend, he felt the air grow cooler almost in an instant, and a blast of air flowed past him. He could barely make out a faint glimmer of light ahead, a green glow, presumably at the end of the tunnel.

  “What do you think is causing that light?” Laedron whispered when Tavin stopped.

  “Likely where Kareth constructs his crystal beasts.” Licking his lips, Tavin scratched his chin. “If we should fight one of those abominations, I will be of no help to you.”

  “No help? You’re a gifted mage. Hells, you told us how to defeat them.”

  “I cannot.”

  “Can’t?”

  “Mustn’t.”

  “What in the hells are you saying? We have to fight them alone?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying, Sorcerer.”

  “But why? I thought you came here to help us.”

  Tavin gave him a tight grin. “If the time comes, you’ll know why I couldn’t. Until then, you’re on your own when it comes to the Trappers. I’ll wait here until you’ve checked ahead.”

  Laedron sighed. “Leave it to us, then. We’ll come after you when the coast is clear.” He started to walk away, but he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “Remember: vibrations.” Tavin glanced at Laedron’s friends. “Those weapons can harm them. Do not stand idle, and do not fall.”

  “We’ll certainly try to keep that in mind,” Marac said. “Come on, Lae. We’ve got work to do.”

  13

  Crystal Caverns

  The green glow grew bright as Laedron approached the opening. He crouched and slowed his steps, afraid to lose any advantage that surprise might offer, and the rest matched his movements. When he reached the mouth of the tunnel, he clung to the last rock that could provide cover and stared into the room beyond, captivated. The others huddled behind him.

  Around the massive cavern, crystal formations of all shapes and sizes jutted from the rocks at every conceivable angle. The place was much like the cistern he had seen when Tavin brought them to the Uxidins’ refuge, but the cave was illuminated throughout by an eerie green light. A vast number of small, animate constructs comprised of green crystal moved about the room. Their bodies and numerous legs resembled those of sea crabs, but the things were considerably larger. They chipped away at the bases of the formations, harvesting the gems. Resounding through the cave was a constant chattering noise, the tapping of thousands of tiny, crystalline legs against the rock. The noise reminded him of the crickets chirping at night in Sorbia. How long have these things been toiling here at the bottom of the world? And why do they work? For what purpose and for whom? Kareth, most likely, but for what reason?

  “What now?” Marac whispered.

  “We have to find a way past them.”

  “Through that?” Valyrie asked, crouching beside them. “Far too many of them to sneak past.”

  Brice pointed toward the ceiling. “What about using those to get across?”

  Gazing upward, Laedron noticed the supports leading from the floor to the ceiling. Struts had been secured to them, likely to add extra support for the cave from all the excavation. The network of beams reminded Laedron of scaffolding he’d seen erected for builders on huge construction projects in the various cities they’d visited. “It’s worth a shot. Go get Tavin, Marac.”

  “We can’t fly across?” Marac asked, glancing at Laedron’s scepter.

  Laedron shook his head. “They would hear the chanting. We’ll have to be stealthy.”

  “Hear? Have you seen ears on them?”

  “We can’t take the chance.”

  * * *

  Returning with Marac a few moments later, Tavin bent beside Laedron. “You’ve found a way through?”

  “Yes, and without fighting.” Laedron gestured at the supports. “Up and across, as quiet as mice. Then, onward to Kareth.”

  Tavin nodded. “Until you’re a ways ahead, I’ll wait. I can’t be seen here, and if you’re spotted, well… you’ll have to do whatever you can without me.”

  “Why? You’re the best sorcerer. We’ll need you with us if we’re discovered.”

  “Like I said before, I cannot. You’ll know why in time, but for now, you’ll have to accept that.” Tavin sighed. “Best get going.”

  Does he fear these things? We all do, but to keep himself out of the fight now is ludicrous. At the time we need him most-apart from dealing with Kareth, if we find him-he sits it out. “Very well. Marac, you’re our strongest, so you’ll go first. We’ll need you to help the rest of us up.”

  “Wait,” Brice said, reaching into his pack. “Before we go, we ought to tie off with one another. If we fall, we won’t go all the way down.”

  “Yeah, but if someone falls, they could take the rest of us with them, Thimble.”

  “What do you think, Lae?” Brice asked, frowning at Marac.

  “I think it’s a good idea.”

  Marac gave Laedron a cross look. “And risk all of us at once?”

  “We go forward together, remember? All or nothing. The execution needs a little work, though.” Laedron gazed at the beams. “They’re not very thick. Perhaps we could slip the rope around the girders before tying it to each person.”

  “Good thought. We’d better wrap it twice to be sure we won’t take the rest if we should fall.” Marac took the rope and tied it around his waist. “Easier to climb if I don’t have to hold it. Wait until I’m all the way up.” He returned his sword to the sheath, stepped out onto the metal beam, then climbed to the top by way of screws and handholds at intervals along the girder. Once Marac reached the top, Brice gestured at Laedron to go up, and Laedron scaled the support. Valyrie followed, and Brice joined them in the rafters last.

  Not long into their crawl, Laedron felt dull aches in his knees and hands. The thin layers of skin and fat between the metal and his bones provided little cushion. He sighed. We’ve only gone ten feet? Inch by hellish inch he crept, and the aches grew into shooting pains. He looked past the beam to the cave floor and hoped he would meet his end from the impact if he should fall to the bottom rather than the slow death of being picked apart by crystal mandibles.

  Each time they reached a vertical beam, they had to undertake a tedious process of rope handling because they couldn’t pass where two supports were joined. Laedron was thankful for the breaks, but his patience was stretched to the limits when they had to stop for such a long time. Marac had to untie the rope around his waist, unwrap it from the beam, retie, climb to the other side of the vertical support, sit, untie, coil the rope around the next horizontal beam, and tie himself again. Then, the next person would go, repeating the same process, until all of them were on the same beam and ready to crawl again.

  Halfway he mused, glancing back at Tavin, then forward at the apparent exit. What does he have to hide from us? Will he turn us over as some sort of offering, a tribute of four fresh souls in exchange for the tome? Perhaps Harridan told him a secret that none of us can know. The pain in his hands had become a pierc
ing sting, and he left bloody handprints as he crawled. He tapped Valyrie on the bottom of her shoe. When she looked back, he signaled for them to stop, and she gestured at Marac.

  Laedron sat and let his feet dangle off the side of the beam, then searched for something to wrap around his hands. Brice apparently knew what Laedron wanted because he handed over some lengths of cloth, then held up his hands to show strips tied around his own palms. Looks like I’m not the only one, Laedron thought, covering the cuts and tying the ends. Either that or he was smart enough to think of it before getting this far. Valyrie took a few strips and did the same, but Marac shook his head and held up his hand, a thick leather glove covering it.

  With a nod, Laedron got on his hands and knees, then they started again. Should’ve done the same to my knees while I was at it. Ah, we’re nearing the end. Only a few more moments of suffering to bear. And one more of those damned vertical struts.

  When he reached the support, Marac untied the rope from the beam, then tied it around his waist. He stood, hugged the brace, and stepped around it, then sat, untied, wrapped, and retied. Valyrie went next, and when she finished securing the line, Laedron crawled toward the post. Just one more time. He undid the rope from the support behind him. Standing, he lost his footing and grabbed for the vertical brace. He felt the sudden pull of gravity trying to yank him off the beam.

  Valyrie extended her hand and whispered, “It’s okay. Step around.”

  He took her hand, but getting to the other support didn’t ease the churning in his stomach. He knew that he wouldn’t have fallen far, but he still trembled from the near miss. Valyrie held him by the shoulders until he was done, and he nodded at Brice.

  Brice grasped the beam, then put his foot around and searched for solid footing. Laedron had noticed Valyrie having the same issue when she had tried, and since the support only joined two braces on opposite sides, all of them had taken longer to cross that joint than any of the others. When Brice stretched out his leg, his hand slipped from the post, and he plummeted toward the ground.