The Eye of Tanub

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The Eye of Tanub Page 8

by M.E. Cunningham


  As Zach ran for safety, I followed, but my toe caught on an embedded rock. I’d never been particularly graceful, so this wasn’t a surprise. In fact, I would have been more surprised to have escaped without any difficulties. Pain shot through my toe, and I flew into a muddy bog face-first, becoming soaked with slimy, putrid water. I flipped over, and saw Zach run past.

  “Hey! Wait!”

  Zach turned, as though surprised to see me there, lying in the mud. He sheathed a sword and grabbed me by the armpit, hauling me up. “Come on! Hurry!”

  But we were too slow. The beast stood right behind us. A look of triumph already on his face, if you could call his snout a face. “Yuoa sgr kirsf mrsy!”

  “What does that mean?” I screamed, holding my wand out as though it could protect us.

  “It means we’re dead meat!”

  With two hands, the werewolf thrust his sword at Zach’s chest. Zach dodged, tripped—of course—and rolled at the last second. The broadsword sliced through the grass, burying itself deep in the wet earth. I hurried to get out of the way and hide behind a tree. I still hadn’t used any of my talents, but I couldn’t seem to remember what they were.

  Zach brought his two short swords up just as the werewolf launched himself on top of him. Sharp, dirty claws sank into Zach’s shoulder, and the scream he emitted was equal to the thousand spikes that had exploded under his skin. The werewolf lay still, his eyes staring in disbelief at the two blades imbedded in his abdomen. His eyes slowly glazed over and closed.

  Warm, dark blood dripped down Zach’s arms, making his swords sticky and slick. He pushed the werewolf off and rolled to his knees, his hands shaking as he wiped his face. He cleaned his blades on the damp grass, still shaking, and turned to study the warrior, whose snout lay open—his jagged teeth exposed.

  Glancing in my direction, he smiled. “Could you give me a heal, please?”

  “Huh? Oh. Sure.” Bringing my wand up, I aimed the tip at his shoulder, and a blue, liquid light, like a mini-zap of electricity, flew into the wound, healing it instantly. “Wow,” I breathed in astonishment. “That was so cool.”

  Zach shrugged his shoulder. “Feels good. It worked.” He gave me a radiant smile, and I was ready to go again. Battle-lust was beginning to fuel my heart, and a part of me wanted to fight as well as heal. As we stood there, the werewolf’s body shimmered, and in a matter of seconds, disappeared altogether.

  I stumbled back in surprise, knowing it happened in the game, but not expecting it now. The werewolf would soon resurrect back at his team’s flag, healthy and whole—ready to battle again. “Wow. Cool.”

  And without another thought, I followed Zach back out onto the field and into the sunshine. Not far from us, a human tracker shot arrows at a zombie sorcerer. The tracker’s war-pet attacked the zombie at close range while the tracker stood safely on a high boulder. With renewed confidence, Zach crept forward on silent feet while I stayed back, my wand at the ready.

  Zach snuck up behind the sorcerer and easily cut him down, slicing through his neck with ease. The sorcerer shimmered and disappeared from view. I had to keep telling myself that this was a game. It wasn’t real. But truly, it felt like a super-violent—real—experience, and it was hard for me to separate it from reality.

  The Guild tracker gave Zach and me a thumbs-up, then ran after another foe. Even though we’d made a successful team so far, watching the killing had left a sour taste in my mouth.

  Zach ran back to me, his chest heaving, his expression, miserable. “This isn’t the same as doing it on the computer with cartoon characters.”

  “Maybe you should go for the flag instead. Isn’t that what you do in this game?”

  “Hey! Yeah. And cunning and speed are my talents,” he said, “so I’ll be good at snatching the enemy’s flag. That’s always my favorite thing to do in a battle.” His smile broadened, and I knew I’d made the right suggestion.

  “Should I come with?”

  “Sure! Why not?”

  Cutting back to the edge of the woods, we followed the tree line to the Legion’s home base. We snuck along, dodging shrubbery, making our way up the hill. The Legion’s home base door opened without a sound, and we slipped inside.

  No one was there.

  Blood pounded through my head as we neared the flag room. This was so scary! At any minute, we could come face to face with their whole team. We could be cut down as easily as corn stalks. My heart raced in dread anticipation.

  We stopped and listened. I swear I could feel a presence, could almost hear them breathing, but we were too close to give up. The flag sat on a dais in the center of the open room, and a door on the other side would be our escape. All Zach had to do was grab it and run. He’d been endowed with speed, so he could do it. I did not have speed, but I did have my shield, so I pressed my finger to the center of my forehead and concentrated. My shield appeared around me with an ethereal glow.

  I stayed back, and Zach sped into the wide room, his feet slapping the smooth marble tiles. Halfway to the dais, he was knocked off his feet and slid halfway across the floor, crashing into the far wall. I let out a soft scream of surprise, and the hairs on my neck stood as death breathed down our backs. Gasping for air, I searched the room.

  “Is there a character that can go invisible?” I whispered as loud as I dared.

  “Only mavericks.”

  That’s what Zach was, but he hadn’t trained for invisibility yet. That meant he was up against someone better and stronger. Probably smarter too. That was just a given.

  Zach rolled to his knees, and brought out his swords, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. I waited to do some serious healing with my wand.

  Our foe shimmered into view—a female drow. Her chocolaty skin glowed like polished stone, gleaming in the torchlight. She smiled as she stalked Zach, her teeth pearly white against her chestnut skin.

  I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was, with her long, dark hair, and large, luminescent eyes. She’d make a great model, but she wasn’t nearly tall enough. Would Zach be able to kill her? She looked too dang human, except for her dark, pointed ears, which had golden hoop earrings hanging from them—the kind I liked and frequently wore, although I preferred silver.

  This girl wasn’t a monster, horrible or snarling. She smelled like pine trees, reminding me of Christmas Day. It was very distracting, because I needed to remember to heal Zach’s injuries, not evaluate the beauty of his opponent.

  She moved in, jabbing with short strokes. “Oasu upir pryars, jumean!” She lunged.

  Zach dodged her blows without fighting back, trying only to block her thrusts. He swerved from a close jab, but wasn’t quick enough. The tip of her blade nicked his upper arm, the slice stinging like salt in a paper cut. At least, that was what he told me later. I try not to imagine it.

  I quickly threw a healing spell that fixed his arm within a few seconds, but instead of running for the flag, he turned and ran for the door… without the flag. That big chicken! And he left me in the enemy house all by myself. The drow gave chase, so naturally I followed too, staying far enough behind that she wouldn’t notice me. Hopefully.

  Zach snuck a quick peek over his shoulder and ran straight into the doorjamb—which was not surprising to me—and bounced outside into the hard-packed dirt, sliding close to the edge of a cliff.

  He hung over the twenty-foot drop, and then rolled away, but the drow pounced, pinning him. She wasn’t big, but she was strong. Zach tried to shove her off, bringing his knee into her back. She lost her balance, falling over his head and releasing her grip. He had just enough time slide out from under her. I watched with my heart racing, glad it wasn’t me beneath her steely arms.

  Zach rolled to his feet and crouched, a dagger in each hand. They circled each other, and Zach kept his eyes on her face. He lunged. She jumped back. They circled again. Then, for no reason at all, the woman stopped, a perplexed look on her face. She stared over Zach’s
left shoulder, out onto the battlefield.

  Both Zach and I turned to see what she was looking at. In the next second, he was on the ground. “Stupid!” he hissed, trying to roll to his back, but it didn’t work. Her strong, small hands clasped his, banging his wrists against the hard ground until he lost hold of his swords.

  I almost ran out to help him, but this woman scared the crap out of me. I didn’t know how to fight other than to pull hair or scratch. Two things this drow would not be afraid of.

  She smiled in triumph. “Un sirrt ti di tgus byst.”

  I felt Zach’s defeat in her words. Struggling one last time, he shoved with his hips, kicking her with his knee, straining against her sinewy arms, but he was unable to dislodge her. Before I could react or help him, she raised her dagger high.

  In what seemed like slow motion, I watched her bring it down with terrible force, its lethal point slicing through Zach’s chest. I stared, frozen in horror. She’d killed my brother! Zach’s eyes widened and fluttered, his mouth making a surprised “oh” without any sound leaving his lips. His gaze flicked to me just before his eyes closed and his breathing stopped.

  I felt sick. Truly sick. The drow released her iron grip and stood, gloating, the stained knife in her fist, still dripping my brother’s precious blood. The last thing I saw before her knife sliced through my neck—which was pretty dang painful, considering it was a very sharp knife—was the beautiful, dark elf smiling as she yanked the thick, gold chain from Zach’s neck, pocketing his ruby pendant.

  Bright light forced its way between my heavy eyelids. Bothered by it, I brushed at the irritant. At the same time, a gentle peace encompassed my whole body as I floated weightless in front of a tall, black obelisk. Its dark granite glistened with power.

  Before me stood a woman surrounded by brilliant light, her hands outstretched. Long, golden hair flowed over her shoulders and down her tapered arms. Slowly, she reached forward and gently touched my forehead. A blinding light flashed. Energy surged through my body, and then I plopped to the hard ground with a yelp.

  I had resurrected!

  My body tingled after being reunited with my spirit, and I scratched my arms and legs frantically until the feeling disappeared. Then the memories came slamming back! The battle. The drow who’d killed me! Dying. My hands frantically searched out the wound where the drow’s knife had slit my throat. It was gone…

  Looking up, I noticed Zach standing to the side, waiting for me. A rush of relief, and yes, love, washed over me. My brother was alive! I flew into his arms, hugging him for the millionth time since we’d been here, and each time it seemed more profound than the last.

  When I pulled away, I searched his eyes, so glad we were both alive. He stood there, clearly still in shock, his hands over his bare chest, where his pendant should be. He fell to his knees before me. “Will we be able to do our quest or go home without it?” he breathed in a terrified voice.

  I didn’t know what to tell him, because I didn’t have the answer. The battle had not yet ended, but it would soon, and we needed to get that medallion back, so I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the battlefield, where we raced to find the maverick who had killed us, desperation spurring us on.

  I spied her across the valley, expertly wielding her swords with samurai precision. She was amazing, but fury burned beneath my admiration. How dare she steal from us! Granted, it was technically Zach’s pendant, but it felt partly like mine too. I wanted it back as much as he did.

  Knowing there was no time to waste, we headed straight for her, our legs pounding the hard earth. We ignored all other enemies in our path. Twenty feet from the girl, she glanced up, a sheen of battle-lust glistening on her face. She smiled wickedly, and just as Zach reached for her, everything began to shimmer, slowing to a standstill, then disappearing altogether. Suddenly, we were back in front of the iron battlegrounds’ gates.

  The battle had ended.

  In surprise, I turned full circle, searching our surroundings.

  Zach roared in frustration, almost in tears. People turned to stare, but he didn’t seem to care. “How will we find her now? She’s part of the Legion,” he cried. “We’ll be stuck here forever! Which might not be bad, but what about Mom and Dad?”

  Tears swam in his eyes as we locked gazes, and my heart wrenched with dread. Zach began banging his head against the wall in hopelessness, and I patted his shoulder, not sure what else to do. I didn’t even notice the boy who walked up behind us.

  “Having a bad day?” his young voice questioned.

  With his face red with embarrassment, Zach turned, wiping tears from his eyes. “Uh, yeah. You could say that.” He faced the small, thin boy who wore leather armor, a bow and quiver slung over his shoulders.

  “Can I help?” the boy asked, reaching out to comfort Zach with a pat on the arm.

  “Uh, no. Well, yeah, but I think you’re a little too young,” I said. The boy couldn’t be more than ten at the most. Light hair flopped over his forehead, blue eyes twinkling between the strands.

  “You think so?” He socked me playfully on the arm.

  I chuckled uncomfortably, wondering if I should tell the kid to get lost, like I would have back home. “Yeah, I guess. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Kirth, a pixie tracker.” He bowed dramatically at the waist, his smile never leaving his face as he looked from Zach, then back to me.

  “A pixie?” I couldn’t help but laugh. Had my brother ever made one of those on his game? They seemed girly and small—right up my alley, but not Zach’s. He liked toons that were tough or strong like humans, elves, or halflings. I’d figured that out since we got here. I was sure he was trying to make up for something.

  “Yes, a pixie.” Kirth made a silly face, then cocked his foot and spun in a circle.

  I felt an instant liking for the tiny tracker who seemed so friendly. “I thought pixies were teeny like fairies,” I teased, warming to the boy.

  “I’m small—all pixies are—but I’m big enough to kick your butt!” Kirth shadowboxed in front of us with a playful chuckle.

  “Don’t get me wrong.” Zach held up his hands, laughing. “I’m just… surprised. That’s all.”

  At that moment, a giant, three-foot-tall spider moved up by Kirth. One of its spindly legs shifted forward, and yes… I started screaming. You’d be so proud. I got every single battler in the entire area to look at me. But in my defense, I really hated spiders.

  Zach shivered visibly, and asked, “Is that your… war-pet?”

  Kirth smiled with pride, blowing his blond bangs out of his eyes. “Yep. This is Trilly.” He patted the spider’s head with affection. Its twelve eyes reflected the sconce’s firelight, and sharp, yellow fangs dripped with venom that pooled at the spider’s feet. Kirth seemed oblivious to the mess it was making. “He’s a great killer.”

  “Uh… nice.” I climbed down from the rafters and stood behind Zach, who seemed enthralled with the little tracker’s pet.

  “You know, Kirth, there is something we need help with,” I said. “During the last battle at Desert Delta, a drow stole my brother’s medallion, and we need to get it back.”

  Kirth gave a loud snort. “Good luck with that. Just buy another.”

  I wished it were that easy. “We can’t. It’s special and has magical powers.”

  “They all have magical powers,” Kirth said with a shrug. “What’s the point of buying jewelry if you aren’t going to put charms on it?”

  Obviously a very stupid question, but Zach looked like he wanted to cry… again, so I thought I should explain. “Well, we need that one, so we’re looking for some high levels… uh, I mean, some experienced people to help us get it back. What level of fighting are you trained for?” I felt very smart asking such informed questions, considering I did not play the game, or know the rules.

  Kirth looked at us with a knowing smile. “I fight in Hartha, Balua, and Daalo. What does that tell you?”

 
; “Oh, my gosh!” Zach screeched. “We’ve been talking to a master. A level one hundred!” he said to me. Then, turning back to Kirth, he said, “You’re the highest you can go! You must be incredible.” Zach whirled in a circle, smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand. “No way!”

  “Well, I am pretty good, but I could use better armor, which is why I’m here at the battlegrounds—to earn it.” Kirth patted his worn armor, fingering a small hole at the waist.

  I stood there feeling stupid, because I barely knew what they were talking about. I had never heard of any of the places Kirth mentioned, and I didn’t know what it meant to be a level one hundred, other than the fact that Zach had told me we were level ones, which meant we were pathetic.

  Zach placed his hand on Kirth’s slender shoulder. “I would love to have you along on our quest. Not only do we have to get my pendant back, but we have to retrieve the Eye of Tanúb too.”

  Kirth studied us, his eyes narrowing with caution. “That’s quite a quest for people so young. Although, maybe you two are older than you look, like me.”

  “No,” I said, straightening. “I’m only fifteen, but I am a trained priestess, and he’s a trained maverick even though he’s only fourteen,” I said, gesturing to Zach. “We just died for the first time.”

  Kalika, a drow maverick in the Legion army, reclined in the privacy of her treetop room, spinning the glowing ruby pendant around her finger. She brought it close, inhaling its tangy, metal scent.

  The pendant sparkled beautifully as it hung around her neck, and at first, she’d been thrilled to have the new bauble. But now, guilt weighed heavily, and she didn’t understand why. It was perfectly legal to take loot from a victim.

  Closing her eyes, she banished those irritating thoughts. Instead, she relished in the fresh forest scents surrounding her loft. It felt good to be home.

  But much had changed.

  The Warlord, whom she served, hungered for Guild land. He wasn’t satisfied with what the Legion already had. He wanted more—like a starving, greedy animal. Over time, she’d begun to doubt the Warlord’s motives and felt that evil was his driving force. She knew her thoughts were treasonous—which was why she never voiced her opinion—but part of her wished… she didn’t know what she wished.

 

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