The Shrine of Arthis Book One: The Power of Denial

by David A. Gustafson

“If we start at that big crack there, I think we can climb right over,” Jerrid said. “There seems to be some sort of gap on the other side, before the mountain rears up. Once we get up on this first ridge, we should see where that creek comes from and figure out how to get past it without getting flooded again.”

  Rendel looked at the rock wall before them. He seemed nervous.

  “We may as well get going then. I hope Audain is okay. It might be awhile before we get back.” As he spoke, he shifted the small pack and coil of rope that where draped over his shoulders.

  “Feor will keep an eye out,” Jerrid answered, “and with her bow always ready, I don’t think we need to worry about her.”

  “I’m not worried about her,” Rendel laughed. “I was thinking about my own skin.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Jerrid chuckled. “You’re right though. Let’s go.”

  Rendel uncoiled the rope and they each tied one end around their waist. The large segment of stone they faced rose to a height of about fifty feet. Rendel watched Jerrid begin to scale upward, and then followed. They made steady progress, finding just enough cracks and gaps. On a couple occasions, Jerrid used his shaping tools to create a new handhold.

  Upon reaching the top, they were confined to a long ridge. Rendel thought that its shape resembled that of a serrated knife edge. The wall of the mountain loomed about two hundred feet beyond them. Any approach to it seemed to be guarded by a narrow chasm that stretched along its base.

  “It looks like our creek flows from here,” Rendel said. Most of the chasm below was filled with water. “I’m not sure how, but this lake must be the source of all that water that let loose on us.”

  “I can’t explain it,” Jerrid agreed. “But this ridge is wide enough for us to follow. Maybe you should go first. You seem to be pretty surefooted up here.”

  Rendel turned to his left and began to climb the gradual slope. Jerrid gathered the loose section of rope that still tied them together. Holding it in his hand, he followed.

  Due to the difficult footing, they moved slowly. Forced to concentrate on each step, they barely noticed that the gentle breeze which had been blowing since early morning was steadily increasing. As it strengthened, a little dust began to whirl past.

  “Watch out, Jerrid,” Rendel called a few minutes later. “Something about this wind feels strange.” Though he did not understand why, Rendel felt anxious. At the same time, his senses tingled and he felt strong and alive. Refocusing on the route, he increased the pace.

  Jerrid stumbled along and tried to stay close. Before long, the rope between him and Rendel was fully extended. When another gust blew some sand into his eyes, he tripped and fell forward, grabbing onto the rocks to regain his balance. Feeling a sharp tug on the rope, Rendel stopped and looked back.

  “Are you okay?” he said with a smile. “I warned you about that wind.”

  “It’s not the wind,” Jerrid replied. “It’s keeping up with you.”

  “Do you need me to slow down?” Rendel jested. When Jerrid failed to answer, he became a little more serious. “Okay. I forgot that if you fall, I fall.”

  Rendel turned to resume walking. After taking only a couple of steps, he noticed an unusual sound. As a cloud of dust darkened the sky, he realized that a freak storm was upon them.

  “What do you think now?” Jerrid yelled. He was still crouched low. As he waited for Rendel to answer, he pulled the chisel from his belt and buried its steel shaft deep into the stone.

  Rendel tried to smile. Ignoring both Jerrid and a rising sense of urgency he felt, he concentrated on the wind. The energy within it filled him with the resolve to take a chance. Slowly he lifted his arms and spread them wide, ready to embrace everything that the power of the wind could bring him.

  Jerrid watched with a stunned look on his face as he recognized what was happening. Though Rendel’s eyes were only open a slit, Jerrid was certain that he saw the white glow of Opal within them. Almost as if responding to a challenge, the storm grew more intense and the wind speed increased again.

  “I’ve got you, Rendel,” Jerrid called out. “Keep going. Let it flow through you, feel the Opal, don’t try to control it, just become a part of it.” Suddenly, an even more powerful gust kicked up. Shocked by its force, Jerrid concentrated on his Amber. He used its power to help him cling tighter to the rope he held in one hand and chisel he held in the other. He was so focused that he could only watch in silence when his friend was lifted into the air.

  “This is crazy,” Rendel yelled. Buoyed by the wind and tossed around like a kite, he realized that he was suspended in mid-air. Though he had only risen about five feet above the ridge, the drop-off on either side was severe. The sight caused him to panic.

  “Pull me back down, Jerrid,” he cried. “I’m afraid I’ll fall or worse yet, the wind direction will shift and throw me onto the rocks.”

  As if sensing that it had won the advantage, the wind suddenly died. A moment later, bruised but not broken, Rendel clung to the cliff face about ten feet below Jerrid. The rope had saved him. Now all he could do was hold on.

  “It’s over,” he said softly. “I can’t do it. I’m not a Shaper. With the next gust I’m going to fall again. Only this time, I’m going to be battered against these rocks.”

  “Don’t give up!” a voice called. The pounding in Rendel’s chest calmed slightly when he heard the words. “It’s coming back,” Jerrid’s voice sounded more steady this time. “I feel it. I know what you are, Rendel. Trust in yourself. Use the wind to help you.”

  Rendel’s heart calmed a little more. He too could feel an energy force within the air. Trusting to Jerrid, he relaxed and tried to concentrate. When he felt the power of Opal rising in his core, he started to climb. Though the cliff was steep, he managed to find enough cracks and crevasses to make progress. A few minutes later, he scrambled back on top of the ledge.

  “I think we can go on now,” Rendel said. The sky had brightened and only a slight breeze blew. His eyes glowed with Opal. “Thanks for catching me, Jerrid.”

  “You’re welcome.” Jerrid pulled the chisel from the stone and placed it into his belt. “Now let’s figure out if this ledge leads to anyplace useful.”

  Rendel resumed walking and Jerrid followed. They had gone about one hundred yards when the route veered more to the south. A short time later, they reached its end. Both men were startled to see that where the ridge intersected with the main wall of the mountain, a narrow path was carved into the rock face. It continued upward and disappeared from their view.

  Rendel jumped across the small gap and landed upon the path.

  “I think that trail passes by the lake down below,” Jerrid said as he tried to get reoriented. “It’s probably the same one we were on when the creek washed us back. I wonder how far up it will take us from here?”

  “Follow me,” Rendel answered and started upward.

  The climb was difficult. Frequent gaps and missing sections in the stone forced them to seek creative ways to continue. Though Jerrid could use his Amber to temporarily force open small cracks and toe holds, Rendel struggled. Their only solution was to rely upon the rope once again. Using his new found power over the wind, Rendel trusted it as he risked jumping over longer and longer spans. They struggled on like this for over an hour before the trail ended. Exhausted, they sat down in frustration.

  “This is no use,” Rendel said as he looked up, “its midday and we’ve barely made it a third of the way. Maybe you can climb a vertical wall with your Amber, but I can’t. I’ve been slowing you for hours. I should go back down and let you go on.”

  “It’s only by working together that we have been able to get this far,” Jerrid replied. “The mountain has been testing us ever since we turned from the main path. In a way I’m holding you back, Rendel. Without me, you could use Opal and shoot straight to the top.”

  Rendel laughed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I should just toss this rope aside, call u
p a nice strong breeze, and float up there. While I’m at it, I might as well pull you along too.” He kept laughing until he realized that Jerrid was not.

  They rested awhile, ate a little food and drank some water. Their mutual unease was obvious for the other to see.

  “I’ve got to keep going,” Jerrid said a few minutes later. “I’m not sure how. Like you said, I can probably make one crack after another with my chisel. But at that pace, I’ll be clinging on for days.”

  “What’s the point?” Rendel asked. “What’s so special about climbing a mountain that doesn’t want to be climbed?” he paused for a moment to reconsider. Was he afraid of the climb, or was he afraid of what he might find if they succeeded? “That storyteller of Audain’s could have made up that story of a memorial. And so what if we all saw a flash of light the other day? It might have come from any old rock catching the sun. Either way, I’m not sure it makes much difference.”

  “It does to me,” Jerrid answered softly. “I took a big chance leaving my home. I did it because I knew that the path I was on had become stagnant. I didn’t know what I would find then, and I still don’t now. If there really is a Shrine, one side of me thinks that King Arthis’ daughters would have wanted to protect it. At the same time, if they truly had rejoiced in their father and wanted him to be remembered, why hide his memory away atop an inaccessible mountain? I’ve already learned things by taking risks, Rendel. If you were still safe in Gladeis, you would not have learned about your Opal. Who knows what else we can learn today?”

  Separated by only a few feet, Jerrid could see a whitish glow in his friend’s eyes. “Wherever you came from,” Jerrid continued, “you are destined to be an Opal Shaper. I’m sorry I don’t know what it means. If we can reach the top, maybe you’ll find an answer. For some reason our paths have brought each of us to the side of this mountain. My heart tells me we both need to be here, and we both need to keep climbing.”

  A smile built on Rendel’s face as he thought about Jerrid’s words. “That part about taking off the rope and flying. That was a joke, right?”

  “Only the part about the rope,” Jerrid laughed. “Keep it on. I don’t want to be left behind.”

  “Agreed,” Rendel chuckled, trying to balance the tightness in his stomach against the exhilaration in his heart. “I’m all for us both keeping this rope on. Before we try again, I just have one request.”

  “What’s that?” Jerrid asked.

  “You go first,” Rendel answered.

  With closed eyes, they cleared their minds and refocused their enhancements. Slowly, each man stretched out his arms. Jerrid’s hands felt the power of Amber as they touched granite. Rendel meanwhile felt the lift of Opal as the wind embraced him. Side by side and through the cord that bound them, each felt the other ready. Together, they dropped their defenses and accepted the pure earth power of the Summit.

  When Jerrid opened his eyes, his pupils shone brightly with brown-gold. Starting slowly, he fashioned a hand grip into the stone and then pulled himself upward, relying upon the Summit to provide power that his Amber channeled into action. As he advanced, each stretch of his arms and each planting of his hands and feet became more fluid.

  Rendel’s eyes blazed Opal. He drew energy from a steady wind that suddenly blew along the cliff. Noticing what appeared to be Jerrid’s newly created indentations in the stone, he followed. With the support from his Opal, he barely felt any weight and was able to keep pace. Within a few minutes, the function of lifting arms, clenching hands and driving legs was lost from consciousness, almost as if the wind alone propelled him.

  The sun was setting when Jerrid finally scrambled onto a flat surface. His mind and body were numb as he lay there face down, still drawing energy from the cool stone. As Amber helped restore his other senses, he blinked through watery eyes and looked across the small plateau. The only life he saw was a few ancient pine trees, guardians of antiquity set amid a field of boulders. Near them, rising from the western side of this bleached wasteland, loomed a crystal pyramid. It measured a hundred feet on each side and a hundred feet from base to peak. In the dying light of the afternoon, a multitude of colors danced across its angled surface.

  Jerrid was relieved to see Rendel resting beside him. “This is no natural rock formation,” he mumbled to his friend. “Maybe there really is a Shrine of Arthis.”

  “I can barely see,” Rendel answered softly. “Everything is foggy except for something that’s sparkling with colors that remind me of a rainbow.” He paused to rub his eyes. “That’s a little better I think. A few minutes ago, I couldn’t see a thing.”

  “Stay away from the edge and wait until you are sure your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you,” Jerrid answered. “I want to get a closer look. I won’t go far.”

  Cautiously, Jerrid began to inch forward. The Shrine continued to glisten, sending ripples of faint light that flickered across his face. As he got closer, the light concentrated and shifted to steady amber. Jerrid felt a surge of energy similar to the force that propelled him up the Summit just a few minutes earlier. He felt strong and firm, like the bedrock under Garth.

  Back by the landing, Rendel began to crawl forward. When he was well away from the cliff he pulled himself to his feet. His concern about the Shine grew as he watched the amber glow within it shift to emerald green.

  Jerrid swooned, almost dropping to his knees as a rush of power wafted over him.

  “We should be careful,” Rendel called to him. “We don’t know what this thing can do.”

  Jerrid answered with an outstretched palm, raised as if to keep Rendel away. “It’s okay. We need to know why the Shrine is here, take from it whatever it is willing to teach. If it wanted us dead, we’d never have made it this far. Promise me, whatever happens, we need to accept it, let it run its course.”

  “I understand, but I didn’t climb all this way for nothing,” Rendel replied taking a deep breath. “I plan to test it for myself.”

  Carefully, each man took a position along the smooth surface. Separated by a distance of about fifty feet, they stooped to their knees and leaned forward. Jerrid was the first to press his hands flat against the crystal. Immediately the colors stopped flashing and were replaced by a pale cloud of gray. Discouraged by this blankness, he considered pulling away but stopped when a glimmer of color sprang up. What first appeared as a murky golden haze focused into a vision, one where the dying rays of a clear day fell upon the spires and rooftops of a city.

  Jerrid’s interest grew. The city was built within a natural bowl formed by the bases of three encircling mountains. It bustled with life. People, horses and wagons passed along its many streets or through the fields planted outside the clustered buildings. At the city’s core rested a large palace with walls of white marble. A tower rose above its central courtyard. Atop this stone pinnacle parapets guarded a courtyard where brightly colored flowers flourished within a garden. Even in the sunlight of late afternoon, their beauty was dwarfed by that of a sparkling fountain set within a corner of the square.

  The garden’s only furnishing was a large marble table lined by chairs. The outline of a mountain goat with long straight horns was carved into the top of the table. An old man sat there. His gray beard and wrinkled face seemed ordinary, but his eyes glimmered as if mirroring the subtle hue of the water that danced within the fountain. His clasped hands rested upon the table.

  A much younger man stood by the old man’s side. Though he looked frail, he carried an aura of confidence. The color of his eyes shifted in the same way as those of the old man nearby. Across the table from them, four women waited. Their uneasy carriages made it appear as if they were poised for flight. Undoubtedly sisters, their main features were alike, yet within their eyes stark variations emerged. Here, all semblance of kinship was lost, for each of them had eyes of a distinctive shade and character. Whether the color was emerald green, sapphire blue, amber gold or the chilling white of opal, the depth within was bottomless,
unwavering and unforgiving.

  The figures around the table were still. The expression on the face of each woman was one of cold tolerance. Their father bore a look of pain. The frail son harbored the impression of softness, as if he were trying to provide comfort amongst the barrenness around him. Barely noticed within the exit from the stairway that connected the courtyard and the palace was a large man. Tall and powerfully built, his eyes were black. Looking closer into the shadow where he stood, Jerrid sensed a glow burning within the man’s eyes, an intense fire of hatred.

  Jerrid adjusted his position and looked around. Though night was closing in around him, his attention was drawn back to the Shrine. When his focus steadied a new vision emerged. Once again he saw the courtyard at the top of the palace tower. Instinctively he knew that considerable time had passed since the previous vision. He continued to watch as the white walls surrounding the palace began to take on the red crimson glow cast by a full moon that hung just above the eastern horizon. Atop the palace tower, King Arthis stood by a parapet that ran along the western side of the courtyard. His youngest son emerged from the staircase. Wearily he walked toward his father.

  “Why have you come here after so long?”

  Deneb took a deep breath and looked around. The muscles in his legs burned after the long climb. Two years had passed since he last made this ascent. The realization that he had come home too late to make a difference made him wince. Being the son of a King was a curse, he had learned during his fifty years. Combine that with the misery of having been born the youngest of six children and a sense of wariness evolved, a wound requiring a lifetime to heal. For a moment he considered turning around and going back the way he had come. Once outside the confines of the Tower, he could leave the past behind and live the life he longed for. Yet feelings of guilt could not easily be outrun.

  “Only the Eldest comes to me now,” Arthis continued. “The rest of my children have deserted me.”

  “I did not desert you, Father” Deneb replied. “You sent me away. I return now, having done your bidding. I have used my command of the four earth powers to help my sisters as they build new cities, communities for themselves and their followers. I have spent months with each of them. I have looked into their hearts.”

  “Then answer my question,” the voice demanded. “The day has nearly passed. The twilight builds and soon night will fall upon us. Let me hear your words while I can still see the mountaintops as they reflect the dying rays of sunlight.” King Arthis was not known for his patience. “Why have you come, Deneb?” he repeated.

  From deep within Deneb’s eyes a sparkle of light began to flicker. It alternated through various hues before steadying into a constant white glow.

  “I bring harsh news, Father…,” he paused, knowing that the King refused to accept failure. “I have no words to soften hearts turned against each other. Our family is beyond the breaking point.”

  “Tell me what you have learned,” the King demanded. “I have no time for games.”

  “I play no game, Father,” Deneb replied. “There is no light left in the hearts of my sisters. There is nothing that will bring them back to the peace we once knew. It is too late. From here, the separation of the earth powers will grow wider.”

  Arthis staggered under the weight of the news and tried to focus. The tower he created nearly a century earlier had become an essential part of his core. It was here that he could see boundaries; some that chained people into the acceptance of what they were, others that tempted and pulled toward what they might become. And though his senses reeled and he felt a weariness he had never known, he still envisioned a future where the Foedan lived in harmony with the earth powers.

  “It is not your fault, Son.” Arthis lowered his gaze to the familiar view of the city. He placed his hands upon the stone parapet and sighed. “I allowed them to pull away. I encouraged them to begin the construction of the new cities. I thought the challenge would help them to appreciate the inner beauty of our earth powers. I thought that they would rejoice in its wonders, seek out the completeness and order that must be. It never occurred to me that they would segregate themselves. It never occurred to me that they would think that they could prosper individually, completely separated from the Foedan balance I have tried to achieve here.”

  “They are afraid, Father. Knowing that our brother, ‘The Eldest’ as you call him, is brooding here, they will never come to you. Barren of the earth powers, my brother has long resorted to cunning and manipulation to meet his needs. I don’t blame them for wanting to live outside of his shadow. I don’t blame them for hiding from him within their work. I don’t blame them for taking delight in the single enhancement they were born with, powers my sisters have learned to command at the highest level. The four new cities: Rhindus, Deluge, Garth, and Gladeis are unique in the individual earth power that thrives there. Though lacking a proper balance with the four earth powers, each city is filled with beauty.”

  “All of you are wrong about Toldor,” the King responded. “He knows his duty. He only wishes to hold us together, to keep the Foedan the way we have always been. The earth powers were not intended to be estranged, Deneb. I know that your brother is difficult, but your sisters have never backed down from him before this. I am growing old, Son. Though the blessings of the earth powers have brought me an unusually long life, the time will soon come for me to return to the earth, mother of the Foedan powers. Remember always, a people divided can only fail.”

  As Jerrid continued to watch, he saw the figure of a man standing near the staircase on the other side of the courtyard. Though the man’s face was hidden by the shadow of his cloak, Jerrid sensed that a great rage lay within. A moment passed and the man started to walk away from the staircase. He moved with a purposeful gait. As he advanced, his eyes stood out, glowing with power as they focused upon Arthis and Deneb…

  ----

  The faint glow on the western horizon helped Rendel to grasp his senses. Night had just arrived he realized as he staggered about in its dimness. Dazed and confused by a vision of a white city, his mind still reeled. He stumbled and fell to the ground.

  “I just need to rest a moment,” he mumbled.

  When he awoke, the sky over head was filled with bright stars. Much of the night had passed he knew from their position. Cold and shivering, he found an extra shirt in his pack and slipped it on. Still weak and confused, he ate a wafer of hardtack. As warmth returned to his limbs, a few vague memories took shape in his mind.

  “Jerrid!” he called out, then fell silent. “The sound of my voice is unnatural here,” he thought, as he struggled to his feet. The sight of the Shrine, silhouetted by the pale light of the moon, startled him. He trudged toward the crystal wondering where his friend was, why they were not together, why they were still upon this cold mountain. When he reached the object, he found Jerrid on the ground, curled up as if in a deep sleep.

  “Wake up,” Rendel said, startled to feel how cold and stiff Jerrid felt. Putting an ear close to Jerrid’s face, he was relieved when he felt the slight movement of warm air.

  “Come on,” he said in frustration, shaking the stonecutter’s shoulder again. “Let’s get out of here. We’ve been up here long enough. Audain probably thinks we’re dead.”

  When Jerrid still did not respond, Rendel grew worried. He covered his friend with a cloak that he took from their gear, and went in search of firewood. Though the only thing that grew upon the peak was pine, there were enough twigs and branches to start a small blaze. Through the rest of the night, Rendel kept it burning as warmly as he could.

  The first light of dawn seemed a long time coming. It did little to cheer Rendel when it arrived. Instead, he grew more worried about Jerrid though troubled memories of his own kept popping into his mind. He saw a white city. He saw people running. He saw fear and confusion.

  “I kept my promise not to interfere,” he said to himself. “I hope some good comes of it. Since I can’t
get back up here without you, I guess I’ll have to wait, no matter how long it takes.”

  ----

  Jerrid awoke to the gleam of the Shrine reflecting light onto his face. His mind was blurred and groggy. The “Shaper’s Sleep” he now emerged from had saved him. Feared by the wisest amongst the Foedan, it was the mind’s last defense, an instinctive act of self-preservation when the earth powers overload.

  Unaware of how lucky he was to be alive, Jerrid took a long draught of water from the flask he found by his side.

  “Thank goodness,” he heard a voice say from behind. “I don’t think I can take another night up here.”

  He turned and saw Rendel’s smiling face. The older man reached out and gave him a solid embrace. “I was starting to wonder if you were going to wake up at all. What happened to your eyes?”

  “What do you mean?” Jerrid replied. “I was thinking of asking you the same thing.”

  “Ha, don’t change the subject. Your eyes are all glittery, like that thing over there.” Rendel pointed toward the Shrine. Its sloped sides glittered in the sunlight. As Jerrid looked toward it, he felt a sense of vigor return to his stiff body.

  “I don’t know. What about you? Your eyes are white with Opal. It makes me a little uneasy, but I suppose I can get used to it. How long have we been up here?”

  “It’s been two days,” Rendel said. “I am crazy with boredom. I think I’ve walked every inch of this mountaintop. I’d just as soon not be here when the sun sets. That rock does crazy things. But before we go, I want you to see something.”

  Jerrid stood up and followed as Rendel led him away from the Shrine. They stopped when they reached the steep drop-off at the southern edge of the Summit. Together they scanned the area below.

  “Is that the sea?” Jerrid asked absently as he looked beyond the rugged tree covered hills toward a glimmer of blue on the horizon.

  “I think so,” Rendel said, “though I’ve never seen it before. That area of smoke a little to the west, I think that’s Arnot, largest city in the Southlands. I’ve looked and looked but there is no easy way down. The landing where we came up seems as good a place as any to start down from. I just thought you should see this view before we left.”

  Rendel turned and slowly started back to the other side of the mountain. Jerrid lingered. When he first made it to the summit two days earlier, he was enthralled by the Shrine and noticed little else. Now he took time to look around. The vast green of the Forest dominated in all directions. Far to the west he noted the outline of the Crosscut Mountains. Their peaks seemed to stand above the elevation upon which he now stood. Glancing finally to the northwest, he spotted three distinctive mountains clustered together.

  “The Three Sisters,” he murmured. “The ruins of Aradith lay at the base of those peaks.” Wincing from the sharp visions that rose in his mind, he lowered his gaze and started to follow the way Rendel had gone.

  “How do you plan to get us off this rock?” he called out a few minutes later when he found his friend. “You must have a plan by now, after thinking about it for nearly two days.”

  “The first day I was out of commission, sort of like you,” Rendel retorted. “Now that I’ve had more time to weigh the options, I was thinking of jumping. How does that strike you?”

  “I remember how we got up here,” Jerrid replied hesitantly. “We were roped together and climbed. It sounds to me like we should do the same on the way down. Only this time, it’s your turn to go first.” Laughing at the startled look on Rendel’s face, he tied one end of the rope around his waist.

  “Alright,” Rendel answered. “Give me a second to tie up.”

  Jerrid sat down and dangled his feet over the edge. He used the touch of the granite to awaken his Amber. Noting the breeze and the fresh scent of spruce trees it carried, he relaxed. His eyes glittered with color. He smiled when he saw a few goats roaming amongst the rocks below. Rendel meanwhile spread his arms and gathered the energy of the wind into his core, allowing it to flow through and encompass him. A moment later, they slipped over the edge together.

  Careful to stay in contact with the stone, Jerrid slid downward. Rendel dropped even quicker. The rope between them was soon taut so Rendel forced himself to slow down to match Jerrid’s pace. Jerrid laughed to himself. He felt the acceptance of the mountain and recalled how it had at first repelled his Amber. Now its energy flowed through him so easily that he needed little effort to control it. When he saw how far Rendel had progressed with the Opal, his heart was glad.

  It took little time for them to reach the bottom. They stood upon the narrow trail they had scaled two days earlier. Almost casually, they followed it downward. They entered the chasm and walked past the small lake within it. They then followed the stream that drained from the lakes opposite end and started down the tight canyon where the water once rose up against them.

  Looking back up to the peak, Jerrid wondered if any Shaper had ever reached its summit. Protected by so many obstacles, he doubted it. Yet beyond those barriers the actual mountain seemed to comfort his Foedan senses. He felt confident that the control he now had over his Amber could be recreated through any rock he touched. The trip to the Shrine had definitely opened new abilities within him that he never knew lay there.

  The campsite where Audain waited was enveloped in the mountain’s shadow when they arrived. Feor, the first to notice their approach, trotted over to greet Jerrid. Audain was resting on her blanket. Upon hearing the stallion snort in excitement, she breathed a sigh of relief. She knew that only Jerrid’s presence would cause such excitement. She rose and was waiting when Rendel walked into the camp. They embraced a moment until Audain pushed him back so she could look at his face.

  “Rendel!” she said with a gasp. “What has happened to you? Your eyes are….well….white.”

  “Wait until Jerrid gets here,” he answered smiling. “Maybe he can explain. I’m not sure I know where to start.”

  Jerrid arrived a minute later. When Audain looked at him, she gasped again. “So here I am waiting all this time and when you show up one of you has become Opal, and the other is, well…, I’m not sure what. Amber I guess, but sometimes I see a blur of something else. Please, tell me what happened.”

  “I’ll try and explain,” Jerrid said. “We have a lot to think about.”

  He began by describing how they climbed to the top of the ridge where the wind tried to dislodge them. Rendel smiled. He remembered few details, but the feeling of exhilaration he recalled as he listened caused his eyes to glow more brightly.

  “It was unbelievable,” Jerrid continued. “That was the strongest wind I’ve ever felt. If it wasn’t for my chisel, I surely would have been flung to my death. It was another test, like when the brush tried to block us and the creek tried to drown us. Some force has been working against us ever since we started this way. Rendel though, he took in the wind’s power and turned it to our benefit. That’s what a Shaper does. They use their gift to increase the value of what nature gives us.”

  “I wish I had been there to see it,” Audain replied. “We finally know where Rendel came from. Rhindus, the city of wind where the Opal thrives,” she laughed, but stopped when she saw the look of pain on Rendel’s face.

  “I cannot remember it,” he said, his mood shifting. “I wish I could. There is still emptiness in my mind, even now, after encountering the Shrine.”

  “I want to hear more about that,” Audain said. “But a good story should be like a person’s life, allowed to play out on its own and not jumbled around.”

  Rendel nodded toward her, puzzled. Jerrid took this to mean she was ready for him to continue. He went on to describe how they reached the landing at the top of the Summit and decided to challenge the Shrine.

  “I think Rendel will have to carry the tale from there,” Jerrid said slowly. “After all, that was two days ago. I’ve been lost to the world for much of the time since then. It’s still too fresh and...confused.”
>
  “My old life is still a hole,” Rendel said. “I think the Shrine showed me some fragments.”

  “That’s okay,” Audain said in comfort. “Tell us what you can bear and we’ll try to help you understand it if we can.” She looked at him, thinking to herself of the great pain that still must be hidden in his past.

  “I’m not exactly sure how,” he began again. “It felt cold at first, and closed. It took a while before I found that my Opal could make a connection. I saw a city. It rested near the top of a mountain. Everywhere the rock was bleached white and the glare of the daytime sunlight on it was almost painful for me to behold.

  “The city was busy with people going about their business. Yet in my vision it wasn’t long before nightfall arrived. Even though the moon soon rose and the mountain air was so clear that it almost looked as though the day had returned, everyone took to hiding, everyone but one group.

  “They must have been Shapers. About twenty of them, they waited at the gate. More of a portal really than a normal gate, it guarded the point where the only road that snaked its way up the mountain reached the city. Outside this gate and about two hundred feet down the road, was a bridge. It had been skillfully made from large blocks. Its arched shape spanned a deep fissure in the mountain where the rock split apart to act as a natural barrier to protect the city. Without the bridge, the city was inaccessible.”

  “It’s called the Rainbow Bridge,” Audain said quietly. “At least I think that’s what you’re describing. I read about Rhindus once. They say the Rainbow Bridge has a distinct power of its own. Sorry, Rendel. I shouldn’t interrupt.”

  “That’s okay,” he answered. “I wasn’t sure but I’ve been thinking it is Rhindus that I saw. As I continued to watch, a shade of red overtook the city and made the white stone looked stained. Down below the bridge, some strange looking red lights appeared. The Shapers at the gate seemed to notice. About twenty of them ran down the road to the bridge. About half of them carried large sledges of some sort. They set to work using these hammers to pound upon keystones set within the upper landing of the bridge. The other Shapers ran across the bridge and took positions just beyond it.

  “Before long it became clear that at least two large figures were advancing up the road. In the moonlight their features were not distinct, but there was no doubt that the red lights I saw were their eyes glowing in the dark. When they reached the bridge, they focused on the Shapers who blocked their path, matching the Shaper’s white Opal glow with red.”

  Rendel paused a moment.

  “It’s okay,” Audain said. “You don’t have to continue. We understand how hard this must be.”

  “No, I need to go on. So I can remember.” Rendel took a deep breath. “It was horrible,” he whispered. “The Shapers had no chance. One by one the demons caught them. One by one the white Opal went black. Rather than face the horror, a few jumped. Their eyes left streaks of white as they disappeared into the depths of the fissure below.

  “After the last Shaper was dead, the creatures advanced. On the upper end of the bridge the Shapers with the hammers continued to work. I realized then that they were trying to break loose the keystones that locked the arch together. But it was taking them too long.

  “When the creatures stepped onto the bridge, one of the Shapers finally realized that his companions still needed more time. He abandoned them and started downward with his hammer. Surprisingly, he was quick and agile. At first he used his speed to taunt the creatures and dodge their monstrous arms as they tried to grasp him. When they tired of this game and started back up the bridge, he jumped closer and swung his sledge to deliver a blow squarely into the face of one of the demons. The strike landed hard, causing the beast to step back, but the hammer slipped from the Shaper’s hand and fell upon the bridge.

  “The Shaper jumped away as the infuriated creature recovered. His hammer lay near the center of the bridge and he bent down to grab it. Seeing this as an opportunity, the creature lunged. Just as its black arms closed upon the man, the other Shapers cheered. The keystones were finally free. With the sound of heavy grinding and cracking, the bridge began to collapse. At its midst, eyes still burning white, the Shaper who came forward looked back at his friends. For an instant he connected with them as the bridge fell. Then, he was gone, lost into the blackness.”

  Rendel paused again. He had tears in his eyes. “That’s all I remember. I woke up sometime later. Jerrid lay on the ground by the Shrine. At first I thought he was dead. Finally, he woke up today,” he paused to take another deep breath. “I’m sure the city was Rhindus. I just don’t know if I was seeing the past, or the future.”

  “I wish I knew,” Jerrid said slowly. “I saw nothing in the Shine to answer that. Either way, take comfort that the city was left safe, sparred by the sacrifice of those who came forward.”

  “Yes, I’ve been thinking about that,” Rendel said. “It gives me hope.”

  “I’m sorry,” Audain said softly. “When you came to Gladeis, Rendel, we knew you were lost. We tried to give you a home, a place to heal. You’ve come far in three years. This is one more step for you. Remember you are loved in Gladeis and will always be welcome there.”

  No one spoke for a few minutes. Rendel thought of Audain’s words while Jerrid tried to find a connection between Rendel’s story and his own experience. At last, he broke the silence.

  “My encounter was different, less personal, I’d say. I think the mountain finally has accepted us. It may even be trying to help, but it is dangerous, not just the Shrine but everything around here.” He paused a moment to allow the others to reflect on his warning.

  “The pyramid is beautiful, Audain,” he continued. “I hope I can take you there someday. It shimmers with so many colors. I think it is the spectrum of the Foedan enhancements. But there are things about it that trouble me. It holds the past, I think, including the downfall of King Arthis.

  “Much of what I saw followed your tale of the old man who visited Gladeis,” he continued. “I could see the King. He looked old, wearied I think by his long life, the shadow of a son filled with jealousy, and the contempt of four daughters who had no tolerance for anything.”

  Jerrid fell silent and looked up at the mountain, obviously uncomfortable with what he was about to say. “There was a battle. What confuses me is how anything could threaten the King. He was a powerful Blender. Whatever it was, it had to be very strong. The reaction that followed startled everyone, I think. When the city started to fall into ruin, I don’t think any of them knew how to stop what was happening. In the end, everything was lost.”

  He stopped and waited to assess Audain and Rendel’s reaction. When they said nothing, he continued. “The King’s daughters must not have been there when this battle took place. But I think that Deneb and Toldor were. When their sisters arrived, it was too late. They searched in vain. All they found was some sort of a golden dust. In their grief, they built the Shrine, carving this mountain into what we see today. Somehow, they imparted a little Foedan power into it.

  “I don’t know what this means or why my vision was so different from Rendel’s. I don’t know why the Shrine even let us get to the summit and didn’t just strike us down when we touched it.” When he stopped, it was obvious to his friends the frustration he felt.

  “Neither of you is the same man you were two days ago,” Audain said. She paused for a moment to look at the sky. “The risk in coming here has worked for us. We’ve learned a lot. There are still a couple hours of light left. Let’s pack up and get moving. I’ve been all over this area. If we go back the way we came up, Jerrid will have to clear some rocks away that have fallen back in. There’s an old road that leads down on the south side. It looks like an easy route but it’s hard to tell where it will take us once we get back into the Forest. Think about it while you’re packing up our stuff.”

  Jerrid whistled and Feor and the other two horses came into the camp. Both men worked together to saddle the
animals and get packed. Arum was already saddled so Audain merely tossed her bags over his hindquarters then took a seat on a rock to wait.

  “I sort of agree with Audain,” Jerrid said to Rendel. “If there’s an easy way down, let’s take it and navigate from there.”

  “I’m ready for easy,” Rendel said with a chuckle. His carefree disposition had returned but his friends knew the pain it masked. “Once we get down, I think I’ll need to study some maps again.”

  A few minutes later they were moving out. Audain took the lead. She guided Arum around the western side of the mountain before turning south to follow a gentle road that sloped downward. It was nearly dark when they reached the bottom. They were in a wide valley covered by tall trees. They came upon a small stream and stopped there for the night. To the north, the Shrine of Arthis glittered as the day ended.

  Chapter 10: A Different View