Knight Of The Flame

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Knight Of The Flame Page 19

by H John Spriggs


  Caymus felt an immense sense of relief when he entered the next chamber. For the last few seconds, he'd been worried about what his next turn would be, but, as luck had it, he recognized this room. It was full of small statues and a few dozen blank canvases. More importantly though, he recognized the two torches that flanked the passage that he knew led to the Ritual Room.

  Right.

  When he reached the doorway of the Ritual Room, the one he'd been heading for, he quickly changed direction, ducking to his right and through the portal, hoping Rill was still behind the open door like he was meant to be. As he turned, he chanced a look behind and immediately wished he hadn't. They were much too close. Several sets of fangs and black eyes glared back at him, daring him to stop, or even slow. They felt like they were inches away, and as he flew into the room, he could only hope that they'd have some difficulty getting through the doorway with all of them trying to push through at once.

  As he moved through the room, he had momentary feeling of dread as he found himself running at the plinth in the center and its surrounding pool of burning oil. He hadn't thought about the fact that he'd have to get around it to cross the room, and he felt that if he took the time needed to make the small changes in direction, the teeth would be on him. Summoning what was left of his stamina, he leapt over several feet's worth of dancing flame. He stumbled slightly when he landed on the other side, his foot slipping a few inches across the stone floor, but he managed to catch himself and kept moving toward the exit.

  Milo was standing in the doorway, his hands out at his sides and held slightly in front of him. Caymus didn't know what he was doing, but since he didn't feel he had the wherewithal to stop at this point, he just hoped that his friend would get out of his way quickly. His concern was unwarranted, however as, with a dancer's grace, Milo jumped back behind the door just as Caymus came barreling through it.

  Caymus only had the stamina left to slow himself a little bit before allowing himself to simply run into the wall across from the door, turning to his side to let his shoulder and ribcage take most of the force of the impact. As he did so, he heard the stone door slam into place behind him. A moment later, the bolt took hold just before the sounds of huge, insectoid bodies slamming into the stone came echoing through the passage.

  Gasping for breath, he turned and leaned against the wall just as he heard another door slam home. He realized his eyes were closed, and quickly opened them to see the twin sights of Milo putting his hand on the door, as though feeling for something, and of Be'Var walking quickly toward him.

  Before they could start the next step—the burning of all the white air from the Ritual Room—there was the unmistakable sound of Rill shouting, as though in great distress. The sound didn't come from behind the stone door. Rather, it seemed to emanate from a several yards down the passageway. Merkan had mentioned that there was a passage that connected the two doors, but Caymus hadn't considered that the connection would be so direct. Summoning a second wind, and with Be'Var yelling after him, Caymus took off down the passage.

  The way was quite simple: the tunnel curved quickly around the circumference of the Ritual Room until it had wrapped around to the other door. When Caymus arrived, he found Rill on his back, scrambling backward, while Merkan grappled with one of the creatures. Caymus had skidded to a halt next to Rill and was helping him to his feet when suddenly he felt a nasty smack to the back of the head.

  He turned to see Be'Var standing behind him, a furious look on his face. "You bone-headed fool!" he said, grabbing him by the sleeve and pulling him back down the passage.

  Caymus tugged free. "We have to help him!" he yelled, and started walking toward Merkan and the creature. The giant's limbs were locked with three of the legs of the huge insect as each tried to overpower the other.

  When Be'Var grabbed again, he wasn't gentle, and Caymus suddenly found himself staring into the master's face. "Boy!" he said through clenched teeth. "You have a job to do!" When Caymus started turning his head around again, Be'Var grabbed him by the chin and turned it back. "He can handle it," he said, looking his pupil intently in the eyes. "I need you now, Caymus. I need you to focus."

  Caymus slapped Be'Var's hand away and stared his master in the eye, deciding how he could get the old man off his back long enough to help Merkan. As he did, he heard the sound of the creatures continuing to slam their bodies against the doors. This time, however, there was a loud snapping sound that accompanied it and Caymus turned to face the door that Rill had been hiding behind.

  Where there had been nothing but smooth stone a moment ago, now a tiny crack extended from the center of the top of the door down to the middle of the left edge.

  They were going to get through. He really didn't have time to help Merkan.

  Be'Var must have realized he finally had his student's attention. "Come on!" he yelled, and then turned and ran back down the passageway to the far entrance.

  When they reached it, they found Milo leaning bodily against the door. He looked up at them, wide-eyed. "Nice of you to come back!" he said.

  Caymus followed Be'Var to the door, where the old man ducked down and peered through a small, square hole near the bottom of the stone slab, looking into the room. Merkan had put the hole in the door just before carving the hollow that Rill had hidden in. It was large enough that Be'Var could look inside—he would need to be able to see the flames in order to pull into them—but small enough, according to Milo, not to allow the airflow the creatures would require to survive the burning of white air from the room. They had been lucky in the choice of the Ritual Room for their trap, in fact. Most of the chambers of Otvia were well-ventilated via small holes and capillaries that went all the way to the surface; the mitre burned torches and pools of oil for light and heat after all, so fresh air was essential. This room, though, was intentionally sealed off, a fact which had something to do with the rituals that were performed here.

  Be'Var turned to Caymus. "Ready?"

  Caymus nodded, then sat down on the ground and closed his eyes, trying to shut out the sounds of the creatures smashing against the doors and of Merkan's life-or-death struggle, not a dozen yards away.

  When he was, at last, able to concentrate, he reached out and found that Be'Var had already pulled a great deal of heat into the oil-fed flames. Caymus could feel them getting fiercer, angrier. He felt for the conduits themselves and found that there were several dozen of them. Be'Var was allowing the flames to spread out along as much of the surface of the pool of water as possible. With effort, he began working to spread his consciousness out over them.

  He encountered a great deal more difficulty than he had been expecting. He tried several times, but he simply couldn't get himself to spread out across so many conduits in so little time. He knew he could probably manage it eventually, but he just didn't have the practice. The frustration of it nearly severed his concentration.

  "Don't try to use all of them," he heard Be'Var say. "All you need is one. The rest will feed off of it."

  Caymus understood, felt himself nodding. He disentangled himself from the mess of conduits over which he had been trying to divide himself, and focused on a single point instead. This he knew how to do, and he quickly had his consciousness wrapped tightly around one of them, squeezing as tight as he dared.

  Within moments, he could hear as well as feel the fact that the once peacefully burning pool of oil was now an inferno of angry flame. More importantly, the sound was replacing that of the pounding of carapace against stone.

  "Keep it going, boy, as much as you want."

  Caymus squeezed even more. He found that he was able to make an even tighter connection into the conduit, as though wrapping himself around it many times over. He tightened and tightened, until he felt he was at the limit of his ability. Until this moment, he'd thought that squeezing too hard would eventually cut a conduit completely; such did not appear to be the case.

  He thought he heard Be'Var say something, but the voice
was swallowed by the tumultuous roaring and hissing sounds coming from the small hole in the door.

  Then, suddenly, it stopped. Caymus felt as if he'd broken something, and he flinched backward as though he'd been slapped. The conduits had suddenly vanished. He opened his eyes and saw Be'Var lean back against the wall, exhaling loudly. Caymus wasn't sure of what had just occurred, but seeing the relief on his master's face made him relax a little, too.

  "What happened?" asked Milo.

  "Take a look for yourself," answered Be'Var, tilting his head toward the hole in the door.

  Both Caymus and Milo ducked down to peer together. The room was dark, lit only by the tiny amount of light coming in through the hole. Still, it was enough to see: the chamber was empty.

  "When the white air was used up," said Be'Var, "the flames went out, and the creatures just seemed to—" he made a digging motion with his hands, "to crawl through the floor and disappear."

  Caymus looked at his master intently. "Back where they came from?" he said.

  "Let's hope so," Be'Var replied. "I could see them struggling just before the air ran out." The corners of his mouth turned up in a very slight smile. "I guess Rill was right."

  Caymus stood quickly. "Rill!" he exclaimed, and took off running again, back to where he'd last seen his friend and the struggling Merkan.

  When he reached them, he saw Merkan sitting with his back against the wall of the passageway. He had a large gash on his left thigh, which Rill was applying pressure to. The door to the Ritual chamber was open. The room was dark, the ceiling scorched, but there was no sign of the creatures, save the one Merkan had been locked in struggle with: that one lay on the ground, a few feet away, not moving.

  Caymus jogged over to them, knelt down, and fished the bandages out of his pocket that Y'selle had insisted they all carry with them. He handed them to Rill, who added them to his own, then called for Be'Var.

  "You did it," Caymus said, a relieved smile on his face. Merkan nodded. "As did you," he said. He was trying to assist Rill in putting pressure on the wound, but his enormous hands were just getting in the way. When Be'Var turned the corner, the old man shooed Rill away and started working to cauterize the wound, as he had done so many times before. As he worked, Merkan continued. "Where are the other monsters?" he asked, peering into the now darkened room. Caymus answered. "Gone. They passed through the ground." He nodded at Rill. "Just like the one in the cave."

  He found himself staring at the body of the creature that Merkan had brought down. It was the first of them that he'd ever seen one taken down by anything other than the power of the elements. The thought that someone, even a mitre, had killed one with nothing more than a knife and bare hands suddenly made him think they might actually stand a chance against these things.

  "They will not return?" said Merkan, who was watching with surprising detachment as Be'Var pulled the flesh of the foot-long gash back into place with his hands, then knitted it together with fire.

  Caymus looked at Rill, and then Milo, who had just arrived. "I don't know," he said, turning back to Merkan. "Wherever they come from, suddenly springing up through the ground is how they seem to get here, so I'm hoping they've just gone back."

  "It would seem," said Milo, squatting down to watch Be'Var work and offering Merkan a waterskin, "that if they're able to move through earth whenever they feel like it, they'd have just popped up on the other side of the door."

  Merkan accepted the water and took a quick drink before handing it back. Caymus wondered just how much Merkan could drink in a day as the giant replied, "I think you are right. This, to me, feels like it was a retreat."

  Be'Var finished closing the wound and started wrapping it with his own supply of bandages. "If you trained in Mael'vek," he said, "I'm sure this isn't the first of these you've had." He indicated the wound, then tied off the bandage. "Just don't go fighting any more monsters for a while and it shouldn't open up again."

  Merkan nodded. "Thank you, fire-master," he said, standing up. When he got to his feet, he frowned, "I am afraid we are not yet finished with the creatures, however."

  A few minutes later, the group was in the huge meeting hall, in the same spot where Caymus had been hiding less than half-an-hour before.

  "Burn me," muttered Be'Var. They were looking downward, toward the stage in the middle of the hall, at two of the creatures. It seemed that they had not joined the group of beasts which had given chase to Caymus. Apparently, Merkan had not been able to get them to follow him, either. They were poking and prodding at the hidden entrance to Otvia's Center, still completely consumed with trying to find a way in. "Somehow, I don't think we're going to get away with the same thing twice."

  "I can try to take them myself," said Merkan, staring down at the creatures with resignation in his eyes.

  "Trying is all it would be," said Be'Var, shaking his head. "You might get one of them, but not both. Besides," he continued, "you'll pass out pretty quickly once you tear that leg of yours open again."

  Caymus felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Milo looking at him, tilting his head toward Be'Var, and making some quick motions with his hands that he obviously expected Caymus to understand.

  With the feathers dangling from his arms, he looked a bit like a flapping chicken. If not for the immediate danger in the room, Caymus would have laughed out loud. "What, Milo?" he said.

  Milo looked a bit frustrated at not being understood. He pointed at Be'Var directly. "Have you told him yet?" he said.

  "Told me what?" said Be'Var, who pulled Milo down a little lower so that the creatures wouldn't see him.

  Caymus's eyes widened. "About...the trick?" he said.

  "Yes!" Milo replied, managing to weave exasperation into a whisper. "Have you told him yet?"

  Caymus hadn't, and he wasn't sure this was the time or the place for it. "No," he said, looking between Milo and Be'Var, neither of whom seemed appreciative of the answer. "No, not yet."

  "What's this?" said Rill. By now, they were all watching the exchange. Be'Var had one eyebrow raised high, and was looking back and forth between Milo and Caymus, obviously expecting somebody to enlighten him.

  Milo took the bait. "We—" he stopped, then raised his head to peer over the stone bench at the remaining creatures. "Come on," he said. He started backing off toward the exit, indicating that they should follow.

  Once they had turned a couple of corners and had reached the relative safety of a nearby room, Caymus and Milo started telling the others about the evening of the attack on the Temple: how they had met in a clearing atop a hill nearby, how Milo had talked Caymus into performing 'a little experiment' with him, and how the resulting experiment had resulted in a lance of flame that had cut through over a foot of stone in seconds.

  As Milo filled in a few details, Caymus watched Be'Var's face intently. He'd planned on telling Be'Var about this, of course, but he'd been wary about what the old man's reaction to the two of them co-mingling the powers of their respective elements might be. Add to that the fact that Caymus never had quite gotten around to explaining where he'd been on the night of the attack, and he'd lost the few opportunities he'd had to tell his tale.

  Be'Var had, indeed, seemed irritated about the revelation, at first. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared when they told of Caymus setting a flame in the deadwood. Caymus understood why: only that very afternoon, the master had delivered a scathing rebuke concerning what he considered to be reckless behavior.

  When they'd gotten to the part about the stream of fire that had eradicated a section of stone, however, the old man's eyes had gone wide. Now that Milo was trying to explain to Be'Var the different colors of air he had coaxed out of his surroundings to make something more flammable than usual, the master's brow was furrowed in concentration as his eyes looked down at the ground.

  When they finished, silence fell over the group. Even Merkan seemed to be waiting for Be'Var to pronounce judgment on the tale. Before the master could spea
k though, Rill punched Caymus in the arm. "You weren't going to tell me about this either?" he said.

  The bit of quiet laughter broke the tension, and Be'Var finally nodded, raised his gaze and spoke, looking directly at Caymus. "You think this will work, boy?"

  Caymus wasn't sure. "I don't know, Master," he said, "but I think it's worth a try. If we had your help, the lance might burn even hotter."

  "What about the other one?" said Rill.

  They turned to look at him. "The other one?" said Be'Var.

  "You know," Rill replied, a bit taken aback, and pointing in the direction of the hall they had just left, "the other one." Rill turned to Caymus. "From what you just said, you've got a really interesting weapon to use there, but it sounds like it can only hit one of them at a time." He raised his thumb and index finger on his left hand, then covered the thumb with his right. "But what about the other one?" he said, wiggling the remaining finger at them.

  Merkan answered. "You must take them as a surprise, when they are separated," he said, "and hope that your fire burns fierce enough to put the first down before the second can close the distance. If need be, I will hold the second back to give you time."

  Caymus didn't like the idea of putting Merkan in danger again. The giant had already saved Rill's life—probably all of their lives—today, and had received a deep wound for it. He looked at Be'Var, hoping the old man would have a good reason to tell him no.

  Be'Var ran his hand across his scalp and shut his eyes momentarily. When he opened them again, he grunted. "I don't like it," he said, looking at Merkan, then at Caymus. "Not one bit. But I just don't see a better option." He sighed, then said, "We'll need something to burn, then, and all of this rock is out of the question."

  Merkan nodded. "There is oil in a nearby chamber," he said. "Come. We will collect it."

  As the group made its way down yet another smooth, stone corridor, Caymus thought about what they'd all just agreed to, and smiled. He knew he shouldn't be smiling, knew it was as dangerous as anything they'd done today, but he couldn't help himself. Up to now, his victories over these huge bug-creatures had relied on luck, on the skill of a warrior with greater size and skill than he would ever have, or on a complete dependence on the Conduit itself. This time, though, they were going to wield a weapon—an actual weapon!—against the things, something that they controlled, something that didn't leave anything to chance. If this worked against the two creatures in front of the Center, it could be used to fight others, too.

 

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