by Mark Eller
When she received no answer from her god, Fox hung her head contritely while considering the wisdom of calling Dakar a pustuous pimple stuck inside a decrepit rat’s ass. Deciding she was finished with the bastard, she opened her mouth to let loose and then snapped it shut when something in the water caught her eye. Was there really a handle in the bottom of the pond? Gingerly, afraid any sudden movement might steal the handle away from her, Fox took two steps, crouched, reached down, and touched it. It was round and smooth like polished marble. Okay, so it looked like a handle and felt like a handle, but why would Dakar put the door to his temple in the bottom of a pond?
She thought about it a moment and then Fox’s eyes widened in comprehension. Of course. The entrance to the guildhall in Ilian looked like a crack in the rock, but once a person got close enough she could see it opened up to a larger hole. Secrecy was the key to staying alive for a thief. Was it also paramount for the god of thieves?
Fox fretted a moment, caressed the knob, and wondered. “If this handle can open the door, and I use it to open the door, will all the pond’s water pour into the temple? How do I stop it from getting in?”
Earlier, when she searched the banks, she found nothing. The only other place a lever or a switch could be was in the water. Running her hands along the bottom of the pond, Fox searched for something to pull or push but found nothing. Finally, with no other options available, Fox’s hand strayed back to the knob.
“Well, since I’m not having much success with anything else, here goes nothing.”
With no other options and twilight upon her, Fox pulled on the handle. Nothing happened. She pulled harder. Still, the door, or whatever it was, did not budge. She growled, grasped the handle with both hands, putting her chin into the water, and twisted as hard as she could, throwing her entire body into the movement until she fell sideways into the stupid damned pond.
Finally, the handle turned.
Sputtering once more to the surface, Fox stood and cursed, an ever increasing habit she might have to address in some future decade. When every foul word she knew and a few she invented on the spot finally stopped spewing from her mouth, she realized everything was eerily silent. Shaking her head once more at her own stupidity, she spat in the pond and turned her attention to the waterfall.
It had stopped.
Looking down, she noted the once waist high water now came no higher than mid thigh. Three minutes later it only reached her knees. Fifteen minutes after that Fox stood in the middle of a damp basin populated by several drooping plants and at least three flopping fish.
A smile spread wide across her face. Reaching down yet again, she yanked at the handle once more. This time it opened with ease. It took several moments for her eyes to adjust to the light, but eventually Fox made out the gray outline of steps disappearing into total darkness. Trudging to what used to be shore, Fox regained her pack and rummaged in it until she found her fire stick. A few murmured words brought the torch quickly to fire, and Fox descended into the temple, the torch held to the fore. Behind her, the door shut silently as she descended. Fox hesitated when it clunked into place. Surely Dakar wouldn’t trap her here? After all, she was doing the bastard’s bidding so the son of a bitch had better not think to double-cross her.
She didn’t find her line of reasoning comforting. Dakar was a god so he could damn well do what he pleased. Since her primary goal during the last several weeks was to keep him fairly pissed at her, she wouldn’t put it past him to keep her locked down here out of spite.
“Well damn it all. I’m here so I might as well get on with it.” If he didn’t let her out, she’d smash his stupid eye and he could just rot.
Continuing down into the dark, Fox moved carefully, not wanting to be taken unaware by a change in direction or missing steps. Suddenly, the walls came to life with light. Fox’s mouth dropped open with surprise. Strange glowing balls clung to the walls, shinning brighter than anything she had ever before seen. The walls were a flat ugly gray and bore several convoluted red symbols. Reaching out, she found herself touching something hard, cold, and flawless. Surely the craftsmen who made this temple must have been ancient gods in their own rights for these walls were not made of wood or stone. They were some sort of metal; something akin to steel, she supposed, only what she saw bore no signs of forging, no traces of hammer blows. It was seamless and perfect.
Looking down the rest of the steps, Fox thought they might go on forever. How damn deep down did the place go? Turning around, she saw no footprints from her passing. Not an ounce of dust had gathered in all the centuries of Dakar’s imprisonment. Just how long had the temple stood empty? Hours? Days? Weeks? Or did an unknown magic somehow hide the effects of years. Was it possible the last living person to enter the temple was the thief who stole Dakar’s eye?
After almost forever, Fox finally reached the bottom. A whisper of sound caused her to look behind her again. Had she heard something…a boot scuff…a whisper? Listening intently, she strained to hear it again, but only silence answered.
A nervous laugh escaped. “This place is ancient. Of course it’s going to have little noises.” Fox smiled satisfaction at her explanation, but her gut disagreed. Her smile fading, Fox drew her knife.
Facing forward once more, she gasped.
Where once she could have sworn there was a blank wall, there now stood a large metal door. Strange symbols were written in red, the same strange symbols she had seen on the walls near the entrance; reminding her of a red pie with missing pieces along with a two more circles with a line diagonally drawn through their centers. She wasn’t sure what either of the pictures in the middle of the circles represented, but Fox supposed it didn’t really matter. Warnings or welcomes, she doubted anything remained down here she should be worried about.
She reached out for the handle. Something clicked before her fingers touched it.
Like a frightened cat, Fox jumped backwards and crouched, her knife held before her. Waiting a moment before approaching the door again, Fox eased forward and cautiously tried the handle. The door opened with barely a touch.
“Dakar? Is that you?”
I have unlocked all the doors. The rest is up to you.
Again, Fox jumped and cursed at the sudden return of her god’s presence in her mind. She wanted to cuss him out, tell him what a rotten prick he was for putting her through hell, but that might piss him off again since she seemed to be making a habit of cursing him. She was too close to finishing this chore and finding freedom to risk needlessly raising his ire again.
Clamping her mouth shut, determined to be civil, Fox started walking along the corridor. Each door she approached clicked and then opened, but she entered none for Dakar always ordered her to move on. After half an hour, Fox came upon the biggest pair of doors she had ever seen inside a building.
Mouth flopping open like a dying fish, she stared in amazement. “Who built these?” She whispered.
Before her was a set of wide metal double doors big enough to drive two carriages through side by side, and if truth be known, one atop the other. What was more astounding was the image embedded in the metal. In detail she had never seen any craftsman create, Dakar the god of thieves, was carved in high relief along the entire length of both doors. The image was frightening. It was astounding. Dakar looked like he was trying to pound the doors down, his face a mask of insane rage.
A shiver crawled up her spine. Reaching into her neckline, Fox pulled Dakar’s eye from a hidden pouch set between her breasts, brushing irritably at Mathew’s pendant when it and the pouch became briefly tangled. Releasing the pouch, she clutched the black onyx stone tightly in her hand. Was this the right decision? If Anothosia and every other of Yernden’s so called virtuous gods had cursed Dakar to a half-life, surely there must have been a reason?
The giant doors started to swing outward. They creaked, groaned, like they were being forced open with great effort. Fox backed up a few paces, her belly tight and nervous as a new
panorama appeared. The immense room before her looked nothing like the metal corridors she had been walking through.
I’m waiting Fox. Bring me my eye.Dakar’s voice was a soft whisper inside her head, coaxing her forward like a hunter trying to trap a wild animal. Fox’s body shook with her god’s need.
She looked down at the stone then into the room. Drawing in a deep breath, she walked forward and crossed the threshold. Huge round lights flared to life on the ceiling when she entered, almost blinding her with their intensity. Smaller, softer lights came to life on the walls. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust, but when they did Fox couldn’t believe what she beheld. A hard lump formed in her throat that she couldn’t quite swallow past. On the nearby walls were huge maps of places she had never before seen. In the room’s center stood what could only be a tilted, flat, black metal altar. It was covered in silver knobs and ugly looking gems which blinked at her with yet more of the magic lights. A low humming seemed to be coming from the walls. Curious, she moved closer to the altar and saw more of the odd looking red symbols covering its top surface. Flashes of memories not her own came unbidden to her mind. She flinched. A battle had raged here…a battle between a man and a woman. No…between two gods.
This is where Dakar had been cursed…punished for his misdeeds. The goddess flashed in and out of her vision, but Fox knew the woman was not really a goddess. She was young, blond, beautiful, and crying. Her face was contorted in pain as she yanked the black stone from the altar and rushed through the doors.
The thief swayed and stumbled. Lack of food and her long ordeal must have addled her brain. She was exhausted, delusional. Fox searched for a place to sit but saw no chairs, only odd shaped poles covered with white sheets.
What in the name of everything unholy was this place?
My faithful servant, the time is upon you. Place the stone in the console. There is an empty place for it near the center.
Fox faltered as her feet tried to move forward. All she had to do was place the stone where he told her and then it would be over. She would be free.
Come on girl, one foot in front of the other then we can get out of this cursed place together.Dakar’s voice was a soft caress against her skin. It soothed and drove her weariness away.
Fox hesitantly started forward again until she reached the strange altar, the console, as Dakar had called it, Fox stared blankly at its surface. Careful, slow, almost like her hand was not her own, she reached over and placed the stone where it obviously belonged.
Good. Now follow my instructions carefully. Push the red button—
“— Whatbutton?” Fox asked, confused. Try as she could, she saw no shirts or trousers lying about, or any other buttons of any sort.
Dakar sighed. “Press the thing you probably think of as a red stone or gem or doohickey. When it turns green, flip the black switch on the right side of the console.
Fox’s hand shook. This was it. No time to lose her nerve. Clenching her jaw, Fox steeled her resolve and pushed the red gem. The humming grew louder, and within seconds the gem turned green. She reached for the black switch.
“Stop!” a voice screamed. “I command you to stop in the name of Matthew Changer, future king of Yernden.”
Whirling around, Fox saw, to her great displeasure, idiot one and idiot two. Apparently Tem and Ergoth still lived, though how she hadn’t a clue. Maybe the ordig had broken their fall.
Her nerves thrummed with irritation. The more important question was how in the underworld had these two morons followed her? She had spent most of the first week after her escape cloaked in shadows, leaving no tracks in the snow. Furthermore, who did they think they were to not only lay claim on her, but to also come inside her god’s temple?
Dakar flowed hot and angry in her mind.Destroy them.
Shaking her head, Fox tried to shove her god out of her mind. Kill them? Not much. As a rule she didn’t particularly like hurting people. She knew the feeling of murderous rage rushing through her was Dakar’s and not her own. She’d be damned if she gave in to it. Body shaking, Fox struggled to control her god’s anger.
“How?” Dakar’s swelling ire within her mind allowed her to sputter only the single syllable. More needed saying, but the words were stoppered inside her like an overdue volcanic eruption.
“How, she asks!” Laughing, Ergoth nudged his companion. “Go on now…show her the little gift Matthew gave us.” His accent was thick and guttural.
Showing a toothless grin, Tem held up a small amulet; it glowed a brilliant red.
“The pretty little trinket Matthew put ‘round your neck.” He smiled and winked “It’s a god stone. This amulet reacts to it by getting all glowy when it points toward it.” He cackled. “A gift from one of Anothosia’s knights, it was. A woman named Sulya. All we had to do to track ya’ was pull out this here necklace, and watch it light up.” He guffawed loudly at this. Ergoth joined in.
Fox’s upper lip curled into a sneer. Reaching up, she yanked Matthew's necklace from her throat and tossed it at the two. The sneaky bastard. She’d make sure to find the half -were before leaving for home and thank him personally for making her life more miserable than it already had been. A large part of her wanted nothing more than to leap at the idiots and choke the life right out them. At the same time, she wanted to kick herself for not figuring out the pendant had been a trap. Fox had been right in pegging these two as incompetents. The dimwits were barely smart enough to close their mouths to keep from drowning when it started to rain. Still, if they were idiots, what did it make her when she allowed them to so easily track her down?
“So my pretty little thief,” Tem said with a smile. “If you kindly hand me the stone, the t’ree of us will be on our way. Our master’ll be right pleased to have you back as hispartner.”
An evil grin crossed Ergoth’s face. “What say we can have us a little fun before we takes her back to Matthew.”
Fox’s eyes widened in amused horror. There was no way she would allow those overgrown farm animals to touch her. She bit her lip for a moment, thinking quickly.
“You know, it’s a shame you’re coming away from all of this empty handed.” She smiled seductively. Stepping to the side of the altar, she trailed her hand along its unusual surface. Greed registered instantly in their eyes when they took in the glowing jewels.
“By the gods, would you look at that?” Ergoth’s eyes grew large, and his mouth dropped open.
Fox suppressed a shudder. Had the man never cleaned his teeth?
“I don’t know, Erg. I don’t think we ought’a be messin’ around with something we know nothing about. I mean look at ‘em…they blink. I never seen gems what light up and blink.” Tem’s dirty unshaven face showed a hint of worry.
Oh please! Fox groaned inwardly. He is choosing now to grow a brain? She couldn’t allow that to continue.
Frowning worriedly, Fox glanced over to a blank spot on the wall and then quickly looked away.
Ergoth narrowed his beady brown eyes. “What you looking at girly?”
Fox allowed her eyes to grow round, afraid.A blank spot on the wall you moron. “Nothing. I was just…I’m looking at nothing.”
Crossing over the threshold, Ergoth yanked Fox away from the altar. She lunged at the black switch.
“No you don’t,” Ergoth warned. “I got ya’. What is it? What you hiding.” He shook her, and then slapped her upside her head.
Fox stumbled, fell to the ground and wondered if she should change a lifetime habit of being prim, proper, and demur by pulling a knife and stabbing the fool in his balls. “Nothing…nothing.”
Tem followed Ergoth's path to the altar. Smiling, he kicked her in her stomach. “This bitch is a thief. I bet the little black knobby thing is hidin’ ‘er treasure.”
“We’ll just have a look see now won’t we? All we gotta do is figure out how to open her secret compartment.” Reaching over, Tem flipped the black switch.
The room shook; lightening arced
across the ceiling. A frigid wind blew around the room, ripping the sheets up and away from the pillars standing in each of the room’s corners, revealing four tall, metal stands with glass balls atop them, The balls seemed to be drawing the lightening to them.
When the main doors slammed closed with an echoing clang, Matthew’s men screamed. Leaving Fox and the altar behind, they charged the doors, tried to pry them open, and then kicked and pounded on them hysterically.
When Fox was a little girl she had been caught in a fierce storm and nearly struck by lightning. The same erratic energy she felt then now filled the entire room. Dakar was free, and his anger was everywhere. Emotions thundered through her veins as her mind became the doorway for her god’s return. This was triumph. This was rage. This was pleasure. She felt Dakar’s thrill at the chaos he could now create. Gods would pay for his imprisonment. People would pay…starting with the fools pounding at his door.
A swirling vortex of lightening and clouds opened above Fox’s head. Darkness seeped from its center. Falling, Fox scrambled on her hands and knees to the altar, crawled into the small space beneath it, and placed her hands over her ears. Without warning, the room’s wall gems shattered. Lightening arced from the glass balls into the two terrified men. Their bodies jerked for several seconds before they exploded, sending chunks of bloodied meat in every direction.
Hands pressed tight to her ears, Fox cringed as she screamed and screamed amid the bedlam. Somewhere around her twelfth scream the glass balls shattered and the room went dark. With her eyes squeezed shut, she covered her mouth and whimpered.