The Eye of Tanub

by M.E. Cunningham

  “Your measly swords do nothing but prick my patience. Throw down your weapons!” Our weapons instantly dropped to the floor. “And the knife, my dear.” The Warlord’s steely gaze turned to Lauren.

  She reached behind her back, pulling out the knife Dardanos had given her. She struggled, not wanting to release it, her hand shaking, her jaw stiff.

  “Lauren, let go!” I yelled, aching to help her.

  The knife fell from her extended fingers, clanging on the rough-hewn tiles of the staircase.

  “Good,” the Warlord said, turning to inspect the group. “Why have you invaded my castle?”

  No one answered.

  “Cat got your tongues?” the Warlord asked, an evil smile in his voice. “A night in the dungeon should loosen them. Guards! Lock them up!” He turned and stalked away, not once looking back.

  We were led forcefully down the cold, winding stairs, to the bottom, far beneath the castle’s keep. There loomed the dank, dark dungeon. Two werewolf soldiers dragged Dardanos’s body down and threw him into the first cell. Each took turns kicking his unconscious figure until they tired.

  I could hear Lauren crying.

  I had never been in a dungeon, let alone one like this, and I sensed an evil like I’d never felt before, an oppressiveness that absorbed all happiness like a black hole. The malevolent feeling slithered through my leather armor, and into my bones, causing intense despair. Fear swelled in my mind as I teetered on the edge of panic.

  The cell door slammed behind me with finality, and I jumped, startled, searching for the sconces that were far down the hall. There was no window, and the light dwindled as the guards walked away, their torches dimming.

  Alone, I sat on the cold bench, my head tucked between my knees. A scratching from across the room brought my head up in a snap, but I couldn’t see anything. All my nightmares flashed before me as my eyes played tricks, conjuring monsters where there were none. I had never been so afraid.

  If only I had the pendant. If only I hadn’t given it up. If only, if only.

  After what seemed like hours of torment, I heard the click of my cell door. It pushed open slowly, white slender fingers curling around the edge. A ripple of fear slithered down my back, and I pressed closer to the ice-cold wall.

  A small blond head peeked in.

  “Kirth! How did you get out of your cell?” I jumped up, and ran for the door.

  “It’s the pendant. I feel like I can do anything!” Kirth said. “It’s wonderful.”

  I remembered. I’d had those feelings for a short while. With a sad sigh, I nodded. “Let’s get the others.”

  We crept from cell to cell, unlocking each door, all the way to the last that housed Dardanos, who still lay unconscious. There was no way to carry him, but we couldn’t leave him either. He was our muscle and brawn… if he ever woke up.

  As we debated what to do, I heard a soft plea coming from down the hall. “Wait,” I said, holding my hand up for silence. I heard the voice again, like the whisper of a feather tickling my mind.

  “Where is that sound coming from?” Flitwicket wondered.

  “This way!” I ran from Dardanos’s cell, down another long corridor, until the sound became clear. “Where are you?” I called.

  “Here,” the feeble voice answered.

  Kirth moved his hand across the lock, and the door opened. The pendant lit the room in a soft, auburn glow. A very old man with hardly any clothes and no blanket lay on the stone bed. I was the first to enter, unafraid, and I hurried to the man, taking my own cape and wrapping it around the elderly stranger. “Can you walk?”

  Kirth stepped into the room and immediately fell to one knee in front of the aged man. “Grandfather!” he whispered reverently, taking the Ancient’s outstretched hand.

  “Grandfather?” I said. “This is your grandfather?”

  At that moment, the old man only had eyes for Kirth. Love radiated in his gaze as he smoothed the younger pixie’s hair. “How often have I thought of you? My heart has yearned for your company on many lonely nights.”

  “Mine too, Grandfather.” Kirth’s eyes dropped to the floor. He rested his cheek against the old man’s paper-thin hands. “I’m so sorry I left. I was afraid. I wasn’t ready for what lay ahead.”

  “Are you ready now?” the man asked in a gentle voice, lifting Kirth’s face with his gnarled fingers.

  Kirth met his grandfather’s steady gaze. “Yes. I won’t run from my responsibilities anymore.”

  The old man leaned forward, placing a feather-light kiss on Kirth’s forehead, and then turned to me, watching the exchange. “I’ve been waiting for you, Zach Marriott.”

  Kalika rose as the Warlord entered the dining room. “What was the disturbance, My Lord?” she asked, even though deep down she knew it was her new friends coming to take the Eye of Tanúb.

  “Nothing of consequence.” He went to the table and sat down, still in full armor. Did he ever take that helmet off?

  “Was it the servants?” she persisted, wanting him to admit the truth.

  “No. Just some intruders. I took care of them.” He stared into the glowing fire. “You’re safe.” After a moment, he stood, extending his arm and taking her hand. “Let me walk you to your room.” At the door, he gently kissed her fingers from under the iron rim of his mask. His soft lips pressed against her skin. Lately, he’d become more affectionate.

  She stared at his glowing-eyed helmet, and then closed her eyes, repressing a shiver.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  “No, I’m just unused to this kind of attention.”

  He stepped back, dropping her hand. “I have sent an emissary to your village with the announcement of our wedding. Your mother will be here in two days’ time.”

  Kalika reeled with shock, but was relieved she had stuck to the truth about her family. She never imagined he would test her story by looking for her mother or bringing her here. Everything was happening too fast. She didn’t want her mother in this horribly dangerous place.

  “You’re surprised?”

  “I am, but… what a wonderful surprise,” she lied, averting her gaze.

  He stood stiffly, watching her. “Well then. I’ll see you in the morning.” He waited as she slipped into her room.

  She listened for him to leave, and then locked the door. Her plan was spinning out of control. Somehow, something had to change. She couldn’t go through with this marriage!

  Hours later, Kalika lay in her warm bed, thinking of her friends. Were they in the cold, dark dungeon? Sliding out of bed, she wrapped a silk robe around her—a gift from the Warlord. She unlocked her door, grimacing as the bolt clunked from its slot. She waited, listening for his footfalls, but heard nothing. Pulling the door open, she peeked out, and then padded down the long staircase, quickly finding the tunnel to the basement.

  On and on, the stairs wound through the oppressive darkness. Halfway down, she lifted a sconce from the wall to light her way. A distressing feeling followed her, like a ghost breathing down her neck. She thought of all the poor men who’d been locked up here, starving and alone until they died. Melancholy filled her. Sorrow overwhelmed her.

  She quickened her pace, her slippers damp on the stone steps. Finally, she reached the bottom. No guards were posted, and all the cell doors were open. She peeked into each room, hoping to find someone… anyone. Confused, she turned back toward the stairs but noticed a dim, red glow at the end of the corridor.

  Dousing her torch, she crept forward, wishing she had brought her dagger. The crimson light radiated with scarlet brilliance. She peeked in. “Zach!” she yelled in surprise, seeing him kneeling next to the aged man she’d met earlier.

  Her friends gathered around hugging and asking questions. “Where have you been?” Kirth asked after a quick squeeze.

  “My plan worked too well.” Kalika said. “The Warlord wants me to marry him, and has sent for my mother. He keeps me with him at all times!”


  Kirth translated her hurried words. They stared, dumbstruck.

  “But he can’t do that!” Zach grasped her forearm.

  “He can and has,” she said. “But he can’t know I’m down here, so I must get back. I just wanted to make sure you were all safe.” She squeezed Zach’s hand and smiled sadly.

  “We are, so be careful,” Kirth ordered. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

  She ran up the stairs two at a time, feeling anxious to get to her room. At the main landing, she slowed and turned into the kitchen at the last second. Leaning against a rough wooden table, she tried to slow her breathing. Then she opened the icebox, pulling out cheese and fruit. Piling the tray high, she hurried back to the winding stairs that led to her room.

  On the first step, she heard thundering footfalls rushing down. She shrank back against the wall, almost run over by the Warlord, his black robe billowing out behind him. He still wore his helmet.

  “My goodness, what’s wrong?” she asked innocently.

  He saw her in her robe, carrying the tray of food. “I… noticed you were gone.”

  “I was hungry and thought I’d have a midnight snack. Want to share?”

  I knelt at the old man’s side, my eyes wide with surprise. “You’ve been waiting for me?”

  “Of course. I sent you my pendant.”

  Self-conscious, I stumbled over my words. “But why did you send it to me? So I could… help Kirth?”

  Vasu’s brow furrowed. “No. But if you have helped my grandson in some way, you have my eternal gratitude, for he has a difficult job ahead.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I said, my face downcast, finally understanding that Kirth would take Vasu’s place as the next Ancient—an honor that could have been mine.

  “Yes,” Vasu nodded. “Being a magistrar is a difficult calling. It takes wisdom and fairness. I myself had that occupation for a long while.”

  “Magistrar?” both Kirth and I said at the same time. The look of shock on our faces brought a chuckle from Vasu.

  “Of course. What did you think I was referring to?”

  Everyone in the dank cell turned and looked at me expectantly. I tried not to wither under their gazes. “Well, Kirth taking your place as Ancient.”

  Vasu reached a hand out to me, “My dear boy, that is not meant to be. You must wear the pendant.”

  The open hurt on Kirth’s face was apparent to everyone. He reached up and placed his hand over the pendant, but didn’t utter a word.

  “But why? Kirth is more qualified.” I gestured to Kirth, confused. “He’s your grandson!”

  “It is your destiny to have it.” Vasu smiled and leaned back against the cold wall, sighing.

  I leaned close so no one could hear. “My destiny? But this is only a game, right? None of this is real.”

  Vasu searched my eyes, seeming to see right into my soul. “Are you sure? Or… is it possible that a doorway swings back and forth, letting us pass through if we are lucky enough to get caught in its grasp?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered. “For all I know, I’m asleep in my bed right now, dreaming.” I stepped back and shook my head, confused.

  “What does your heart tell you?” Vasu asked.

  I was too tired and too despondent to listen to my heart. “I don’t know.”

  Vasu seemed to know what I was thinking and nodded his head. “You should rest and begin your attack tomorrow. A good night’s sleep will do you all good.”

  Our group snuggled together on the floor of Vasu’s cell, wrapping our cloaks around us. Before my eyes closed in slumber, I wondered what Kirth was thinking at that moment. Would he give up the pendant? Would he accept that his calling was not to be an Ancient?

  Yawning and stretching, I slowly opened my eyes. Disoriented, I searched my strange surroundings. Black rock encompassed me, and I realized I was still in the Warlord’s dungeon. Pushing myself up, I wondered how late it was. Without windows, there was really no way to tell. I shook Lauren, who awoke in a groggy stupor. “Wake up. We need to get going.”

  She rolled from her bedroll with a yawn. “I need to check on Dardanos.” She hurried to the next cell.

  Flitwicket and Kirth had already awakened, acting as though they’d spent the night in the softest, warmest beds. They stretched, yawned, and got their things ready to go.

  “How was your rest?” Vasu asked everyone in a tired, but cheerful tone.

  I assessed myself. Physically, I felt pretty good, happy even, although I wasn’t sure why. We’d face the Warlord today. “I’m good, I guess.”

  The others answered in a like manner.

  Vasu nodded. He did not look like he’d slept well at all, but sagged against the stone wall. “Deemer, come out please.”

  Deemer appeared, smiling.

  “Where did he come from?” I asked, wide eyed and amazed. The little man continued to surprise me at every turn.

  “Why, young Master, I was here all the time. I’ve found it better to remain invisible for my own safety.” Deemer bobbed on his feet, his hands clasped behind his back.

  “That is so cool! I can’t wait to train for invisibility. That’s one talent I don’t have yet.” I imagined all the things I could do back home with that one.

  “You will. In time,” Deemer said, patting my knee.

  But I knew it was not meant to be. More than likely, Lauren and I would not remain in this world. If we were successful in obtaining the Eye of Tanúb, we would return home. At least, that was my understanding. I had no idea how it would all work. Could we have more time here in Terratir if we wanted?

  As soon as we rolled up our beds and strapped on our armor and weapons, we gathered around Vasu who addressed only me.

  “The first thing you need to understand,” Vasu began, “is that only the wearer of the Pendant of Power can handle the Eye. While wearing the pendant and holding the Eye, the Warlord will not be able to harm you in any way. In fact… he cannot even touch you. But first, you have to be holding the orb. Do you understand?”

  Did Vasu think Kirth would give me back the pendant? If Kirth hadn’t by now, I doubted he would, and I didn’t feel comfortable demanding it. A feeling of unease incubated in my mind.

  “We have to find the Eye first,” Kirth said, stepping forward. I had a feeling he wanted to be included in this conversation. “And we won’t have much time to search.”

  “Follow your heart, and you will find the orb,” Vasu said to both Kirth and me. “Second, the rest of you will have no power against the Warlord. None. Do you understand? Don’t even try to fight him, or there’s a good chance he will kill you just to get you out of the way. Dardanos is lucky to be alive.”

  “What about you?” I asked the frail Ancient.

  Vasu shook his head slowly from side to side. “This battle is not for me. I am at my end. I have waited only to see you, Zach.”

  Kirth stiffened at my side, but said nothing about the obviously painful comment.

  I knelt at Vasu’s side, my heart racing. “But we need you!” I couldn’t imagine going against the Warlord without him. The sorceress’s words still filled my mind… you will fail.

  Vasu chuckled, covering my hands with his own and peering intently into my eyes. He whispered so only I could hear. “My son, do not be afraid. Believe in yourself. Believe in the pendant. And remember, you are the only one who can touch the orb. The only one. Do not try to hand it to anyone else. They won’t be able to help you.”

  “But—”

  “Shh,” Vasu whispered as though comforting a crying child. “You know… what you… need to know,” he said, breathless, suddenly becoming increasingly fragile.

  “What’s happening?” Lauren asked, peering intently at Vasu, who had started to wither right before our eyes.

  Deemer began to cry and ran to Vasu’s side. “Do not leave us, Master. Do not go!”

  Vasu patted his servant’s head. “You’ve done… well, Deemer. You’ve been�
� a true… friend. Help young Zach…”

  Vasu’s eyes closed, and his hand fell to the cold, stone bench. He tipped to the side, his head lolling on his bony shoulder. The room became visibly darker, the shadows more threatening. Deemer’s wails echoed through the dungeon. We stood, encircling the man who continued to shrivel smaller and smaller, like a plum dehydrating in the sun.

  Deemer wiped his face and knelt on one knee, Kirth at his side.

  “What’s happening to him?” I cried, reaching for the Ancient, hoping to halt the dreadful degeneration.

  “He is leaving this world, leaving behind his essence and magic in one small jewel. This is the way of the Ancients,” Deemer explained.

  After a moment, sitting on the bench where Vasu had been, was a clear, white diamond. It sparkled even in the dim light of the cell. The others followed Deemer’s example and knelt, giving honor to the man who had lived for almost a thousand years. Deemer picked up the walnut-sized diamond and held it tightly in his fist, tears streaming down his cheeks.

  “What are you going to do with it?” I whispered in fascination.

  Kirth’s eyes were riveted to the jewel, appearing hungry for it, and I wondered why he didn’t just ask for it if he wanted it so bad. It was his grandfather after all. It would be a special keepsake.

  Deemer ignored my question, but turned to the whole group. “You must hurry! There isn’t much time. Go!”

  Deemer’s urgency sent us all out of the cell, barreling down the dark corridor. But before I could get too far, I was pulled back, my leather sleeve held by the tiny pixie servant.

  “I couldn’t give you this with Master Kirth watching. Quickly! You need to swallow it. Do you understand?” he asked with fearful urgency. “You must swallow it!”

  I took the large, marble-sized jewel. “What?” I choked on the words. Who in their right mind would eat a diamond? I certainly didn’t want to. Wouldn’t it get stuck inside me, killing me in a gruesomely painful way? “Wow… I don’t know. I…” I backed up a step.

  “Swallow it, Zach,” Deemer encouraged. “You were chosen.”

  “But, why isn’t it Kirth’s?”