Into the Madness

by Richard H. Stephens

  Larina’s voice was so loud that everyone glanced nervously into the shadows in case she had awoken the dead.

  Alhena sighed and adjusted his robes in his lap. “I became Wizard of the North over a hundred years ago. I took the place of Ignis Vir, a rather unremarkable wizard who kept the line going until he found me. Thunor Carmichael, now the Grimward...”

  Grimward? Sadyra’s head spun with all the names and places and times.

  “…did not feel he could relinquish his post to Ignis. Thunor informed Ignis I would be the one to replace him, but Thunor had something he wanted to see to before I did. That was fine with me. I was only fifty or so. I had no aspiration of dying to become a spectre.”

  Sadyra’s head hurt. Dying to become a spectre?

  “For all his magical shortcomings, Ignis’s strength was his ability to foresee the near future. In fact, he is the only wizard I am aware of who has ever been able to do such a thing. A mixed blessing if you ask me.”

  Sadyra leaned forward, glaring.

  “Fear not Sadie, I am coming to the point.”

  “Ya right. You said that a while ago.”

  Alhena threw back a mouthful from his waterskin. “Through his ability, Ignis located another magic user, a very powerful one indeed. One who had eluded Helleden and Thunor for that matter. Ignis had me watch over her, believing this woman was a direct descendent of Reecah Windwalker.” He paused, looking around.

  Blank stares met him. “I didn’t think anyone would have heard of Reecah but one never really appreciates the odd bits of knowledge one gathers over a lifetime. Pity that you have not.”

  “Gramps!”

  Alhena’s milky eyes settled on Sadyra. “If I have the right of it, I believe Reecah and Sadyra share similar personalities.” He smiled, staring into the flames. “Anyway, Ignis foresaw something so terrible that he refused to share it with me, though he insisted if Zephyr and the rest of the divided kingdoms were to survive the firestorms on the horizon, we needed to protect the woman’s progeny. Like I said, reading the future is not a great ability to possess. The magic user’s death was preordained and all we could do was sit there and watch it happen.”

  He shook his head, the painful memory evident on his face. “Can you imagine how hard it was to look the woman in the face knowing full well when her death was going to happen?” He muttered, losing focus.

  He swallowed and wiped his eyes, composing himself.

  “Sorry. Where was I? Oh yes.” He cleared his throat. “As horrible as that was, Ignis believed we might prevent the death of her children with the Aberrator’s assistance.

  “I sought out the necromancer and convinced him that our need, the land’s need, was bigger than him or any Wizard of the North. We required his skills to throw Helleden’s minions off the trail of this woman’s children for as long as it took them to come into their own.

  “Ignis passed from this world before I won the Aberrator to our cause. Left on my own, I struggled to convince the necromancer to put aside his penchant for death and save the woman’s children. In the end, he agreed, but his price was the forfeiture of my life.

  “The hardest part of this entire fantastical tale has been delaying the Aberrator from collecting his debt. Until Helleden is dealt with, the woman’s children are in danger—at least the one still alive.”

  Sadyra shook her head. What in the world was the old man going on about? “I’m so confused. Who is this woman you speak of?”

  Alhena swallowed, clearly uncomfortable. His sad eyes fell on Rook.

  Sadyra wasn’t sure she heard Alhena properly; his words muffled by the unease in his voice.

  “Mase Storms End.”

  Up the Chute

  Melody’s back ached, her arms were weak and her legs wobbled. She didn’t know how Tygra dragged Keen up the slope ahead of her, constantly bracing his arms against the sides to pull himself and his charge forward. No amount of magic was going to lessen the burdens they bore.

  She drew power from her staff to ease her aches, but the more power she consumed, the more tired she became—using any kind of magic had its limits. She didn’t dare infuse too much healing lest she collapse from exhaustion.

  Sleep wasn’t an option—they’d likely slide back down the tunnel and find themselves back against the Gimcrack’s busted maw. Broken or not, she shuddered to think what the creature would do to them if it got a second chance. Her only consolation was its broken teeth. With any luck, its advancement to the surface had suffered an irreparable setback.

  They stopped many times, neither she nor Tygra able to continue their struggles for great lengths of time. Their progress became easier the farther they made it up the chute as its grade became less steep. During their frequent rest stops, she trickled as much warmth and healing into Silurian as she dared to without compromising her ability to carry on.

  She did her heart good when Silurian’s mind cleared enough for him to insist on climbing on his own. In his weakened state he was hard-pressed to keep from slipping backward without her assistance.

  It felt as if they had plodded upwards for days. Tygra’s disappearance startled her as her dull light illuminated more than just the Kraidic’s expansive backside. Above, the tunnel opened into what she hoped was the cavern housing the lake.

  She swallowed and held her position, afraid to advance any farther. If the leviathan waited on them, they were done for. Despite Tygra’s size, he was no match for that fish. It could swallow him whole.

  She thought about freezing the lake again but feared the detrimental expenditure casting such a spell would have on her weary body. Keeping Silurian moving and attempting to heal him had taken its toll. She barely had the strength to keep the staff aglow.

  Swallowing her misgivings, it was time to keep moving. The longer she delayed, the greater the chances were that the leviathan would become aware of the Kraidic warriors’ advance around the cavern’s ledge—the telltale scrape of armour rubbing against the cavern wall echoed above.

  She gazed into Silurian’s tired eyes. “Are you ready? That’s the cavern where we faced the aquacats. We’ll need to be quick if we wish to avoid the giant fish.”

  Silurian’s head lolled sideways but his peculiar gaze never left her own. “We should fry his sorry arse over a fire.”

  As tired and afraid as she was, she couldn’t help but smile. “Speaking of sorry arses, it’s time to get yours moving.”

  She braced her staff hand against the chute wall and helped push him over the cavern’s lip.

  She cringed as he teetered at the top of the chute. If he fell backward, he’d take them both down, and if he fell forward, he’d surely alert the leviathan.

  She scrambled up as fast as possible but by the time she reached him he had steadied himself.

  At the edge of the light, Tygra and Keen shuffled along the splinter of rock lining the cavern wall, their progress highlighted by the glowing Serpent’s Eye talisman.

  Melody examined the Kraidics’ movement closer. Keen now moved on his own, albeit with Tygra’s support. That was a good sign. She swallowed. Or was it?

  On top of everything she and Silurian had endured the last few days in the Gimcrack’s burrow, they were ill-suited to face a confrontation from the Kraidic brutes. If they sensed her weakness, she and Silurian were in trouble.

  Silurian didn’t need any coaxing to move around the lake’s edge. He shuffled across the ledge as quickly as his bad leg would allow, turning sideways on several occasions where the pathway narrowed to less than the length of his booted feet.

  Twice he teetered on the verge of slipping into the frigid water. On both occasions Melody thrust her staff across him, giving him that little extra support.

  The Kraidic warriors slipped beyond her light, the ring Keen carried around his neck no longer visible. The absence of metal scraping on rock told her they had entered the next chute.

  An air bubble popped in the middle of the lake. Melody held her staff over the
water’s edge and gazed into the murky depths. Just when she was about to dismiss the noise, a large air bubble rose to the surface halfway between the first one and the shore at their feet.

  The staff! Of course. The fish was attracted to the light.

  To her right, Silurian continued his progress toward the upper fissure, and it was a good thing, too. If the bubbles were the harbinger she feared, they needed to cover a lot of distance in a short time. She’d never get beyond Silurian without falling into the lake. Nor did she want to draw the attention her light attracted to him, but if he didn’t reach the chute soon, they were in trouble.

  “Silurian, move faster!”

  Silurian glanced back at her, the action almost toppling him into the lake.

  She winced at her stupidity. She should’ve kept quiet.

  “The fish is coming! Hurry!”

  Silurian stared at the water, obviously trying to see into its depths.

  “Move!” she screamed.

  Quicker than she thought possible, she skirted the cavern’s perimeter. Two bubbles, one after another, showed the creature tracked her progress, closing the distance at an incredible speed.

  Not knowing what else to do, she discharged her staff into the ledge behind her, the blast so great it thundered inside the cavern, shaking the ledge. Chunks of rock dislodged from the walls and ceiling to splash into the water.

  “What the…?” Silurian exclaimed.

  “Don’t worry about it, just run!” she called out, not daring to take her eyes off the span of water between the last air bubbles and the shoreline at her feet. If he didn’t reach the chute before she caught up to him, they were both lost.

  Her staff flickered and the air turned ice-blue.

  The water churned several feet away, a series of quick bubbles marking the creature’s approach. A large silhouette took shape, increasing in size as it rose to the surface.

  She dipped the head of her staff into the water as she hustled sideways along a narrow stretch of ledge. Chanting a phrase, hopeful not to compromise the spell’s result in her haste, she finished with an emphatic, “Aleam glacius!”

  Her staff wrenched out of her grasp as the water in front of her froze solid—the staff embedded within its unforgiving embrace.

  She reached back, bracing herself against the resounding impact of the leviathan hitting the ice directly below her staff. The ice cracked and her staff flipped into the air, losing its glow as it spun.

  Her left hand shot out, plucking it in midair before it could fall back to the bobbing floe of broken ice.

  She illuminated the cavern around her in blue light, watching the leviathan recede into the depths but its shadowy form showed that it was preparing for another pass.

  “Come on, Mel.” Silurian’s raspy voice reached through her wizard’s trance. “I’m at the hole.”

  The hole? The chute! He was telling her he was at the fissure leading out of the cavern.

  She moved sideways with purpose. Out of the corner of her eye she espied the shadow in the water, growing in size as it came for her. Whether it tracked the light source or detected the cause of the magic itself, it didn’t matter. Her time had run out.

  She hung on to the length of dark wood with one hand, clasping it at its base and held it as far out to the side as she could, hoping that it was indeed the light that attracted its attention.

  The leviathan, in all its whiskery detail, breached the surface and leapt at the staff’s head, its mouth revealing rows of jagged, dagger-sized teeth.

  As the leviathan snapped at the staff, she pulled it clear of its path. The fish-like creature bounced off the wall with a wet slap and splashed back into the lake, showering her with icy water.

  Melody wasted no time shuffling to where Silurian waited. He stood with his sword in his hands, searching the lake.

  Below her, the fish prepared for another jump. She didn’t think they could get up the chute quick enough.

  “Freeze the water again!” Silurian shouted.

  She didn’t know if she had enough strength left in her. Pushing herself beyond any level of magical fortitude she’d drawn on before, she summoned a last surge of inner-strength.

  The fish grew in size.

  She held the staff out as far as possible. If she froze the water solid enough at the bottom of the chute, they might yet make it out of the cavern before the fish broke through.

  Chanting the words faster than ever before, she was dismayed when the leviathan breached the surface quicker than she anticipated—its mouth engulfing the top of her staff.

  “Aleam glacius!” The last words left her lips as the fish pulled the staff free of her hand.

  She screamed at the significance.

  The fish slammed into the wall close to Silurian but instead of a wet slap marking the collision, the sound of shattered glass filled the cavern.

  Silurian bent sideways, covering his head to ward off great shards of frozen fish pelting the ledge and water around him.

  Melody had unintentionally frozen the leviathan solid. It had exploded on impact with the wall, shattering into pieces.

  “My staff!” The pole floated away from the ledge, embedded in a large chunk of shattered fish.

  Silurian bent low to grab it and almost fell into the lake. The staff was too far away. He jabbed at it with his sword but only succeeded in pushing it farther away.

  Melody scrambled over to him. “Oh no. Oh no.” She pulled her cloak over her head and threw it at Silurian.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, catching the voluminous material.

  She gave him an incredulous stare. “What do you think I’m doing? If we lose my staff, we’re dead.”

  She gathered up the bulk of her robes and started to pull them up when Tygra slid back down the chute and grabbed onto Silurian to prevent him from being knocked into the water.

  Tygra glanced at the chunks of frozen fish bobbing in the lake. “What’re you two doing down here?”

  “What’s it look like we’re doing?” Silurian snapped and shrugged out of his grasp. “We’re fishing.”

  Melody let her robes drop again. “Do you still have that rope?”

  Tygra looked at her like she had lost her mind. “Yes, a small length. We used the longer one to come down the first shaft.”

  “Get my staff. It’s floating away.”

  Tygra frowned, gazing at the softly glowing staff. He shrugged off his cloak and pulled a rope from around his shoulder. Fashioning a slip knot faster than Melody could follow, he sized up his throw.

  His first attempt missed.

  The cavern dimmed appreciably. They didn’t have much time. Once the residual magic left the staff, they’d never be able to find it in the dark.

  It felt like it took forever for the Kraidic warrior to pull the rope in and prepare for a second cast. As he swung the looped end back and forth, the staff winked and went out, dropping the cavern into absolute darkness.

  Melody gasped.

  The sound of something slapping the water met her ears.

  “I think I got it.”

  She edged her way to where she sensed the big man standing, following his musky odour and creaking leather armour.

  Water gurgled and dripped along the ledge by her feet.

  Tygra grunted. “It’s heavy. I can barely pull it out.”

  Melody bumped against him and felt her way down his straining arms to the water. At first, all she felt was a mass of frozen fish, but then her fingers wrapped around the lower half of her staff.

  The Kraidic warrior’s arms were around her neck at this point, the corded muscles hard against her temples. She fleetingly thought that if he wanted to, he could end her right then and Silurian would be none the wiser.

  The staff felt reassuring in her hands—her bond with it, instantaneous. The runes lit up in soft orange shapes, unreadable by anyone but her. “Calaro celer!”

  The staff head pulsed bright and the frozen meat encasing her staff siz
zled as she pulled it free—the smell of cooked fish permeating her nostrils.

  Tygra’s heady aroma fell away.

  Silurian raised his sword, its runes glowing of their own accord. “Where’s Keen?”

  “I left him two levels up. Come.”

  Silurian wavered his sword at the man. “Why would we go with you? We’re fine on our own, thank you. Now begone.”

  “Kar…Keen needs all of us if we’re to win free of this cursed place.”

  Melody frowned. “All of us?”

  “The aquacats have returned.”

  Silurian’s incredulous stare matched her own.

  She swallowed. “You left Keen alone up there with them?”

  Tygra shook his black locks. “They await us on the mountain slope. I think they’re afraid to come back down here.”

  “I don’t blame them,” Silurian muttered. “Between the man-eating fish and a rock-eating worm the size of the Wizard’s Spike, I can’t say I blame them.”

  Melody ignored her brother’s rambling. That explained why Tygra hadn’t dispatched her when he had the chance. They needed her. She considered her options. With only one way into the shaft that they were aware of, she had little choice.

  She nodded up the shaft. “Lead the way. We’ll see how those cats respond to fire.”

  Watching Tygra disappear up the chute, she indicated for Silurian to go next. With a final glance at the still water, she half expected another leviathan to leap at her.

  Staggering Revelation

  Rook choked on Alhena’s words, almost falling into the fire. Until Helleden is dealt with, the woman’s children are in danger—at least the one still living.”

  He shook his head and blinked rapidly several times. Surely, he misheard Alhena’s response to Sadyra’s question, and yet, Alhena’s reply reverberated through his mind, spinning his thoughts out of control.

  Mase Storms End. Mase Storms End. Mase Storms End.

  It couldn’t be. Mase only had two children. He was sure of it. Mase Storms End was Silurian and Melody’s mother. Could there be another? He doubted it. With Silurian dead, that only left…The ramifications riddled his skin with gooseflesh.