Legend of Ecta Mastrino Box Set 2

by BJ Hanlon

  For hours, they went straight.

  Slowly, he began to notice they were going down. The decline was slight and it took a long time to figure out what was happening.

  Soon the smell of sulfur began to fill the air like a room filled of fat and gluttonous men. Then Edin spotted a light coming from his left. A dim orange glow. Then an instant later, the wall of the tunnel faded away and disappeared. Edin gasped and tried to silence the wind. But the tunnel was still descending and the wheels had the momentum. It continued prattling on.

  Edin twisted the wind, flipped it and tried slowing the heavy cart. The wind billowing it back.

  Then it started, the wheels, wood and joints creaked and squealed as the cart slowed.

  It took hundreds of yards, then the cart stopped. Edin slowly stepped off, his butt tingling, he stretched and made his way to the left side of the road.

  Below, was a steep drop into a giant canyon. Hundreds of feet below, he saw the red glow of a burning river. It flowed beneath the road for fifty or so yards before it disappeared beneath the road.

  He lowered himself down and looked over. Huge buttresses the size of a castle’s held a stone “bridge…” whispered Edin.

  He could see great chains with links the size of cottages dipping toward the fiery river. Gigantic stones protruded like blades from the lava. But they were black and glassy and though far away, he could feel the twinge of something pulling at the talent. Edin closed his eye and could sense it more.

  Wan stones, and there were many of them. They dotted the river and the lower reaches of the great canyon like flies on a corpse.

  Far below, he saw them. Next to the river of fire on a nearly invisible path were row upon row of dark shapes moving. Dematians.

  “The underworld…” Edin whispered. The molten fire, the beasts, and the wan stones.

  Edin’s eyes began to burn. For too long he’d been staring at the winding path of black warriors. After wiping them, Edin headed back toward the cart. He looked the way he’d come and then forward suddenly feeling incredibly exposed.

  He glanced at his father. The old man was quiet, his eyes still closed.

  Edin filled the sail as if it were his breath and pushed them forward. The wheels creaked down the stone bridge. Edin went slow as the wall on the other side of the tunnel fell away and the ceiling rose. There was nothing but air and a long drop to either side now.

  Edin held onto the mast as they moved and hoped the road would remain straight.

  A few minutes later, the gods decided to screw up Edin’s plans.

  The road swung to the left. He stopped the cart, dismounted and looked at the new turn. The bridge turned into a tunnel again, but there was no lava line. No light at all.

  Turning the cart became very difficult and took over an hour. He had to unload everything, his father included and then lift it or push it inch by inch until it was looking straight down the next tunnel.

  A dark tunnel.

  Edin was sweaty and tired when he was finally ready to go. The air stung his eyes and breathing was getting more and more difficult. How far could he go in the pitch darkness? He couldn’t use the ethereal light as well as the wind.

  He looked back at the bridge. Being down here was bad for his health he knew. Edin got in the cart and felt the air pushing the sails again. Still very slowly.

  After about a hundred yards, they hit a bump and there was a crack. Immediately, Edin stopped the wind and summoned an ethereal light. The tunnel was the same height and width of the tunnel before… only this one seemed older. The stone somehow was more worn and there were old bones and rusted tools scattered haphazardly near the walls.

  An exhaustion seemed to come over him. It was sudden and difficult as if someone was making him sleepy.

  She was running, Edin saw it through her eyes and knew she had little time. Dragging and shuffling feet were behind and they were gaining. She was weak and tired. All that work had been too much and the food had been too scarce.

  She glanced over her shoulder and saw the draugrs. In one of the long-abandoned rooms she found an armory. In it were all the arrows she could want.

  Arianne pulled an arrow from her quiver and loosed it over her shoulder. She glanced back just in time to see a draugr take it in the eye and fly back. It wouldn’t stop the corpse but it’d slow it down. Arianne pulled another, then another.

  From somewhere off to her right she heard the chattering of the dematians. They’d found a way in and were coming. Arianne glanced that way.

  A group of the wilder ones, running on all fours like crillio cats, were barreling down a small arterial road. She pulled back her bow, swung it toward them and let loose another arrow.

  The dematian she’d aimed at ducked, but the second wasn’t so lucky. It caught the thing in the neck and fell back into a follower.

  Arianne glanced toward the river. Two days and she was nearly done. Now, she didn’t have time. Turning down the narrow path between the water’s edge and stone row houses she saw it.

  Tied to the small dock and floating in the breakwater. Arianne ran to it and leapt on the makeshift raft. It was built from doors on square logs. The raft barely acknowledged she got on.

  She took out her knife and slashed the mooring. It didn’t cut. The mooring was thick and her blade was dull from chopping. She hit it again.

  Then she heard fighting. Moaning and chattering cries. They were killing each other, he hoped. Then she looked up and saw a group of dematians running down the path. They were a fifty yards away.

  Arianne hacked at the mooring again and again. The rope was thinning but it was taking too long. Arianne stood and raised a hand. A blast of wind flew at the dematians, knocking them back a few feet. One tumbled into the water and began splashing around and floundering like a child.

  She took out an arrow and aimed it at the mooring. She loosed it.

  The rope snapped and the raft jerked nearly sending her into the freezing water. Arianne kicked off the dock and toward the open flowing river.

  As she passed in sight of the battle, she saw the two enemies. Dematians and the draugrs. A moment later, a thin spear slammed into the raft near her foot.

  Arianne lost her balance and reached out for the crate in the center of the raft. She grabbed it and ducked behind as arrows and spears began pelting the opposite side.

  Arianne took hold of the air and started pushing toward the dark hole that grew larger and larger. Arianne took a breath as she got the last glimpse of the dematians chasing her. One knocked another into the water. It was clear that they couldn’t swim.

  Then she was in the blackness and let the wind die down. She couldn’t see ahead and she curled up next to the chair and began to cry.

  “Edin… where are you…” she sobbed as the lazy river poured her to the unknown parts of the underworld.

  Sounds came from above him. A creak and a grunt as if something had struck a wall or a beam. Edin pressed his hand to his sword’s hilt and waited.

  “My gods… what…” A panicked voice rose from near the wagon. “My arm…”

  “Rihkar…” Edin said, he leapt to his feet and quickly summoned an ethereal ball. The light blotted out his vision.

  “Gods that’s bright...” Rihkar said, “can’t you do anything less obtrusive?”

  Slowly, Edin’s eyes adjusted as he covered his eyes from looking directly into the light. “No.”

  Edin looked at him, his father was staring around and then looking toward his missing right arm. He padded his side, then moved his remaining hand to other wounds. A look of remembrance came over his face. He leaned his head back to the wagon and closed his eyes exhaling loudly.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m armless and feel like I’ve been run over by a heard of buffalo.” His father twisted so he was lying on his left side, staring at him. In the white light it was hard to see if color had returned to him. His cheek seemed shallow beneath the gnarled beard.

 
; “Are you hungry?”

  “What do you think?” he said.

  Edin sidled toward the back of the cart and pulled out a few hunks of the sea snake. Edin tried to hand the man the cold meat forgetting he had one less arm than he was born with.

  “What happened?” Edin asked as he helped Rihkar lean against the mast. His left hand snatched the grayish meat from Edin and he tore into it with his teeth. No answer; there’d be no talking.

  Edin felt odd, holding the light and watching the man scarf down the food. It felt like roles were reversed. As if Edin were the parent making sure his child ate all the vegetables on the plate.

  Rihkar finished and began licking the remaining juices and bits of meat from his dirt laden fingers.

  He lifted a waterskin and tried to pull it open. With one hand, he rammed it against his chest and tried to lift the cork. After much spinning, there was a pop and a burst of water crashed over his face and chest.

  Edin coughed to hold back a chuckle. It really wasn’t the time for laughter.

  Rihkar glared up at him as he maneuvered the waterskin back into his hand. His beard was a sopping mess. “You try doing this with one arm…” He drank, his throat thumping up and down in deep swallows. Rihkar pulled it away, letting drops splash back onto his drenched beard and sit there like a translucent braid. “Where are we?”

  “In the tunnels…” Edin said. He looked down at the cracking stone floor. “I lost the Rage Stone…” it

  “You lost—” He stopped himself and looked away. “The dematian…” he closed his eyes and rubbed them with his fingers. “The one with the human bones on his chest.”

  Edin said nothing, he could still see the dematian in his mind standing in the doorway slowly bending to pick up the stone. “I failed…” Edin said.

  Rihkar sighed. “We both did… but we haven’t lost yet. Your woman has three and the Birth Stone is still out there.”

  “As far as we know,” Edin said. “But the dematian king has a wyrm he’s flying on and a gnarled staff that does something, maybe it controls the beasts, maybe it helps him find the stones... We stand no chance.”

  “Where in the tunnels are we? And what is this contraption?”

  “I built a sail… I don’t know how far we’ve gone but…”

  Rihkar raised an eyebrow as he eyed the thing. “There’s no wind. A sail needs wind to move…”

  Edin swallowed. He still hadn’t told his father. It wasn’t a lie. But Edin also remembered Berka had always told his father everything, well mostly everything.

  He remembered when he and Berka were kids, maybe ten or eleven and they went frog hunting near the Crys. They needed to find something to carry the little slippery devils so they found Berka’s mother’s wicker basket. Only at this time, it was mostly filled with clothes. Clean clothes… “Bedding for the frogs…” Edin had said.

  They sat near the stream, giggling, snatching and laughing. After catching nine and putting them in the basket they headed back. They arrived late and had to run inside for dinner, leaving the basket with the frogs near the side of the cottage.

  The next morning, Berka said he’d woken to a scream, a horrific bloodcurdling scream followed by curses, ones he’d never heard from his mother before. Words more often heard at the Dancing Crane.

  “Father…” Edin said hoping the word would soften the blow. He closed his eyes and felt the dank musty air around him. Edin let out the ethereal ball and raised a hand. The air formed a current that pushed into the embroidered sheet. He heard the wheels clack over the stone floor.

  “What the!”

  Edin released and summoned the ethereal ball again. “I can control the wind…”

  “You can what! You’re a gusoria,” Rihkar said. “How is that possible? Only very old magi can gain two talents and that’s after years and years of studying.”

  “I told you it’s my destiny to find the stones…” Edin said. “The prophecy is about me…”

  “The prophecy…” his father paused. “The Ecta Mastrino?”

  Edin shuddered. “I also have the talents of a glasorio and an instorios.”

  “Water and lightning…” Rihkar quieted for a moment then the corners of his lips turned up and he chuckled. “My gods…”

  Edin didn’t respond but looked up at his father’s eyes. There was hope in them and something else… pride maybe?

  “We should get going if we’re going to beat the… what do you call it, dematian king, to the Birth Stone.”

  Edin shook his head, “Arianne first. She has three of the stones. Though I’m not sure what they do now… Dorset said something about opening a portal to the land of the gods?”

  “I don’t know… but I if I had a chance to save your mother… I would’ve dropped everything.”

  “Good,” Edin said. “But now we’re rolling blind, the lava lines ended in this tunnel. I cannot use the light and the wind at the same time.”

  Rihkar looked around the cart and saw the dematian polearm weapon. He picked it up and began fiddling with the blade. “Wrap cloth around this.” Rihkar said.

  Edin did so.

  “Now lash it to the front with the cloth end sticking out like a lance.” It took some time, but Edin got it to work. Then Rihkar summoned an unending fire. “Let there be light.” He said.

  Edin took his position next to Rihkar and let the ethereal ball fade.

  The tunnel was aglow with the flickering flames of the fire.

  Edin pushed the air to billow the sail and began forward. The road was bumpy as if it were made during the early years of the dwarves. Before they became the master artisans. We’re going back in time. He thought.

  The cart moved slowly for hours over the uneven ground. Edin hoped the wooden wheels wouldn’t snap.

  The air pushed them forward and the tunnel rose slowly. They passed multiple small openings and then through a huge cavern with a glowing underground spring that was nearly a quarter mile across. The place smelled dirty and rusty like old iron.

  They stopped three times having to readjust the direction of the cart though for the most part, the roads were straight. Rihkar told him it would’ve been better for some sort of steering mechanism to turn the wheels.

  Critical, just like a father.

  They pushed on in the darkness, ignorant to the passing of time. Soon, the road began to curve ever so slightly to the right. Edin had no idea where they were. It wasn’t like the dwarves to post road signs.

  They stopped, preparing to try and shift the cart, when Edin saw a short, arched tunnel leading deeper to the right. He’d seen so many of these small offshoots that it barely registered.

  But something about it felt different. Maybe it was the air. Edin stepped closer to the tunnel as the shadows flickered long from the fire.

  “Where are you going?” Rihkar said.

  Edin ignored him, he could hear the faint sound of crashing water. A waterfall or a rapid? Edin moved forward using his ethereal light to see. Little good, the tunnel abruptly ended in a wall of white water. To the left and the right, he could see the room curve and there were hewn stones. A cistern? This was ancient plumbing but where to? Did the dwarves divert rivers?

  The falls were thick and he couldn’t see beyond them.

  “We’re under a river…” Rihkar said from the gloom behind him.

  “I wasn’t sure, being unable to see beyond the water—” Edin said in his most sarcastic voice.

  Rihkar slapped the back of his head. “Don’t be a blotard.”

  Edin chuckled. For some reason the water gave him a surge of hope. Edin stuck his hand out and felt the cold water slapping it with hard rivulets. He brought the water to his mouth and drank. It tasted fresh and delicious like a cool breeze through a stifling valley.

  “The waterskins,” Edin said. He filled them and took a few more drinks with cupped hands. Rihkar took his place and drank for a few moments before sticking his head under the water.

  “It’s so
hot down here,” he said and whipped his wet hair back scattering droplets.

  Edin just raised an eyebrow.

  Hot?

  It hadn’t felt too bad to him though he had seen Rihkar drinking more water and sweating quite a bit more than Edin.

  They returned to the cart and took their places. For hours more they travelled, Edin figured they were going slightly slower than a horse trotting. Both men kept their eyes open on what was in front of them. More corridors passed them as the road continued to rise.

  White luminescent patches of mold grew on the walls. While sparse corpses littered the stone floor.

  They ate and slept when Edin could no longer push the cart. Then he told Rihkar about the water snakes.

  “Eels maybe,” Rihkar said, “I’d never felt like I should stick my head under water and try to see.”

  “I fell.”

  “Right,” Rihkar said sarcastically.

  Maybe sarcasm was genetic, Edin wondered.

  Edin relayed the story of how he’d lost the gem, found Rihkar, and fought off the dematians.

  “I think your talents are working well. You have good control over them, like how you’re able to propel the cart. But you need to be able to channel energy. It is rarely taught on the isles or anywhere really. I found an old manual from thousands of years ago.”

  “Channel?”

  “Instead of pulling energy into your body and charging up, you bring the energy in and let it flow through you… much like a sewer.”

  Edin grimaced but seemed to understand. After a few minutes he said, “can you teach me?”

  Rihkar smiled and rustled his fingers in his whiskers. “I never got to teach you anything...”

  Edin said nothing but Rihkar was looking over his shoulder toward the blackness of the tunnel.

  “You must first realize that we are not as solid as you believe. According to this manual we are all made up of billions, probably trillions of tiny little particles that move around like balls on a billiard table. Or at least that’s one of the theories.”

  “Billiard table?”