Green acid splattered his chest.
Smoldering leather filled his nostrils.
The death clock ticked away.
Finally, he located the second bread roll and snatched it off the table.
Normak leaned into the nagi attached to his shoulder, found the edge of the table with his boot heels, and kicked off of it as hard as he could.
The nagi hadn’t anticipated such a move, and the two of them flew backward and into the adjacent wall.
The nagi released his shoulder.
Normak drove his elbow back and up as hard as he could, catching the nagi right in the nose.
He pushed off the wall, turned his head, and ducked just as a dagger swept past him.
Warm liquid ran down the side of his face.
The dagger must’ve connected, but he’d felt nothing.
He lunged forward, the bread roll still in his hand.
Something struck him in the back, right between the shoulder blades, but the blow only helped propel him forward.
The table edge caught him across the stomach. Drove the air from his lungs.
Darkness shrouded his vision. Threatened his consciousness. He fought it as he worked the bread roll into Rakzar’s other ear.
More hissing.
“Bugger!”
Long claws raked the back of his gauntleted hand. But he’d managed to get the bread roll in.
Rakzar jolted upright on the table and shook his head.
“A little help would be good!” said Normak.
Rakzar grabbed his new double-edged battle axes off his back, leapt off the table, and tore into two naga sirens, chopping off their arms and then their heads. Acid sprayed everywhere and narrowly missed the side of Rayah’s face.
“Nasty little bastards!” yelled Rakzar.
“Aye!” exclaimed Normak as he brought his war hammer straight down on the head of another nagi siren. A sick crack registered in his ears and green acid exploded from its crushed neck. He barely got his arm up in time to protect his face from the deadly spray.
Three remained. One naga siren and two nagi sirens. The nagi sirens stopped singing and hissed as they backed out of the room along with the naga siren.
“Yeah, that’s right!” exclaimed Normak. “Yeh’ve lost the fight. Go slither away somewhere else and find victims who won’ fight back.”
Rakzar bolted out of the room after them.
Both Rayah and Urza sat up on the table and gasped for air. Rayah moved her hand and Normak yelled, “Don’ touch the green stuff!”
It seemed that there were few places in the entire room that didn’t have green acid eating away at something.
“Bloody little buggers!” said Normak. “Didn’ think they’d put up such a fight.”
Rakzar returned. “Well, you’d have been wrong if you’d bet on it.”
“What happened?” asked Urza. She’d been under their trance longer than any of them.
“What happened is we saved your life,” said Rakzar. “Those things were going to eat us all.”
“Correction,” said Normak. “They was gonna eat the three of ya. I be immune ta their singin’.” He smiled but then grimaced and held his ear.
“What happened to your ear?” asked Rayah, looking at Normak’s right ear.
“Dagger, I s’pose.” Normak pulled a kerchief from one of his pockets and blotted his ear with it. Holding his hand up to his ear made his left shoulder ache. Blood saturated what was left of his leather breastplate. “One of those damned things bit me shoulder as well.”
“This is one of those moments where it’d be good to have a wizard with us,” replied Rayah.
“Ya don’ say. Bad plannin’ if ya ask me,” said Normak. “A good raid be needin’ a wizard.”
“Wizard or not, we need to be more careful,” said Urza.
“We need to move,” said Rakzar. “I didn’t manage to catch those last three things. They’re fast in the water.”
“And there could be more,” said Rayah.
The four of them made their way back toward the iron gate and collected their belongings they’d dropped along the way.
Back at the gate, it took three good blows from Normak’s war hammer to bust the iron lock that secured it. Beyond the gate was a circular space about twenty feet in diameter. The walls were lined with brown-and-gray-and-white river rocks and extended into the darkness above.
“Definitely looks ta be a well,” said Normak.
“You gonna be able to climb with your shoulder?” asked Urza.
Normak smiled and winced. “These shoes be good for climbin’ as well. A good runnin’ start, and I be at the top in no time.”
“Lead the way,” said Rakzar. “And tell us what you find.”
Normak nodded. “Aye.” He raced around the bottom of the well several times and used his momentum to ascend the well walls, circling as he climbed ever higher. He ran right out of the well and crashed to the ground when he fell over its top lip.
He grunted and lay on the ground for a good minute while he caught his breath. Finally, he sat up and pulled himself to his feet. Sculpted sand and glass surrounded him. Buildings, statues, roads, benches. People. Everything was made of sand and glass. Even the fake trees and flowers.
Normak leaned over the edge of the well and called down to the others. “Think yer gonna want ta see this.”
† † †
Utilizing her wings, the several-hundred-foot climb out of the well hadn’t been so bad for Rayah. Urza, on the other hand, struggled. The curse continued to take its toll on her, and Rakzar had to help her climb the last fifty or so feet. Once they all stood on the glass road, Rayah took Eshtak’s bag from Rakzar and retrieved another torch from it.
The torch burned brighter than it normally would have, or at least it seemed that way since the glass world around them reflected and amplified its light tenfold. Rayah circled, awestruck by the beauty of her surroundings. The four of them stood in the middle of a town square, but that square looked nothing like any other one Rayah had ever seen.
Detailed artwork surrounded them. Buildings carved straight out of the sandstone surrounded the square, each painted in a distinct shade of purple, red, blue, or green. No two buildings matched, not even in architecture. Sculptures of various kinds littered the square. Thousands of them. Plants, trees, benches, rocks, people, and various creatures. Like the buildings, none of them matched either.
Sculptures of people varied greatly. Several had freckles and dimples while others donned scars. Some were tall and hairy while others were short enough to be dwarves. Each had eyelashes and hair so authentic that Rayah could identify individual hairs. Pores, both large and small, pocked their skin. Had the sculptures not sported a glassy sheen she might’ve mistaken them for real people frozen in time.
“All this beauty hidden from the world.” Rayah sighed. “Such a waste of talent.”
Rakzar walked around sniffing the air and the statues. “Something’s not right. I can smell these creatures and people.”
Rayah frowned and then her eyes widened. “You’re saying these are real people?”
“Rakzar’s right.” Urza stopped next to Rayah. “These aren’t statues.”
Normak gulped. “Then we be close to the crystal.”
How long had they been that way? Rayah shuddered. “Are they still alive? If so, can we help them?” She said it as much to herself as to anyone else.
Rakzar dashed her hopes. “They might look well preserved on the outside, but death took them long ago.”
The beauty of Nasda faded before Rayah’s eyes. She didn’t want to be there anymore. “Let’s finish what we came here to do and get out of here.”
“Aye,” said Normak. “Where to?”
“Straight back, behind the square.” Urza pointed to a towering red building. “See the double crescent moon on its roof? That’s what we’re looking for, right?”
&nb
sp; Rayah fluttered several feet off the ground to get a better view. “And the stars… Yes, I believe so. It looks like the same symbol as the one on the doors we fell through in the desert.”
“Then let’s move,” growled Rakzar. “We’ve wasted too much time already.”
The four of them headed across the square and toward the red building. Rayah could only imagine what they might face within its walls.
With any luck, it’ll be nothing.
She knew better.
Chapter Thirty
The first room of the temple served as a worship area. Rakzar stalked through the rows of many individuals who knelt on the floor and faced into the building, toward the front wall. Each individual knelt in a unique position, each at a different point in their forward bow, immortalized forever.
A massive red curtain covered the front wall from ceiling to floor. Embroidered at its center with silver thread were the two crescent moons and stars.
Your god couldn’t save you.
“But yours can,” said Amicus.
“Not now,” growled Rakzar under his breath. He walked over to the red curtain.
Amicus materialized in front of him. “The longer you wait, the harder it will be to reconcile.”
“The damned can’t be saved.” Rakzar reached through Amicus and pulled the curtains apart.
“Perhaps not, but you’re not damned yet, my friend.” Amicus faded as Rakzar walked through him and into the second temple room.
Two grey, cylindrical columns rose to the ceiling and flanked a rectangular altar carved from a single stone. The altar had a red hue to it. Rakzar couldn’t tell if the hue came from the stone itself or from the centuries of blood spilled upon it. Either way, blood sacrifices had been made. A small trough circled the altar, a channel to direct the blood into a holding chamber somewhere below the altar.
The room contained nothing else. No windows, doors, or any sort of decoration.
Frustrated, Rakzar punched one of the columns. “This can’t be the right place.”
“Perhaps there’s a latch or trigger of some kind hidden in one of these rooms,” said Rayah. “There’s got to be something. The symbol on the roof can’t be a mistake.”
The four of them searched the temple for half an hour but found nothing. Each of them stood on a different side of the altar.
“Satisfied, dryte?” scoffed Rakzar.
“Enough, Rakzar.” Urza stared intently at the altar. “Perhaps it takes a sacrifice.”
“Whoa,” said Normak, stepping back from the altar. “I like meself the way I be. Alive.”
Click!
One of Urza’s knives sprung into her right hand. “Don’t be a fool. I’m not suggesting one of us needs to die.”
“Then what?” asked Rakzar, eying the knife.
“Perhaps it only takes a small amount of blood to trigger something,” said Urza.
Urza held her left hand over the altar and slid her knife across her palm. Blood pooled in the fresh wound. She turned her hand over and squeezed. Droplets of blood fell onto the altar. The blood sizzled and the altar quaked for several moments before stopping. Nothing else happened.
“I think she’s right.” Rayah set her torch on the floor, pulled off her left glove, and took one of the knives from her belt. She palmed the blade in her left hand and pulled it through her hand with a grimace. “Ouch!”
Blood dripped from Rayah’s hand onto the altar, and the altar shook again, more violently this time. Rakzar and Normak joined in, each donating blood of their own. The ground trembled as the altar shook and turned crimson. Each of them squeezed their wound harder, adding more blood. The altar slid back six inches and then the front of it plunged into the ground, revealing a dark passage with sandstone steps.
“Nice work!” exclaimed Rayah. Then she glared at Rakzar. “Where would we be if we listened to you?”
Rakzar glared right back. “You’d still be at home.” To Urza, he said, “Lead the way, sister.”
† † †
As soon as the four of them entered the passage the altar rose back up and sealed the exit. Either they’d find a way out somewhere beneath the temple or they’d die in there. Urza preferred the first option.
Thirty-three steps led to the bottom of the passage and to a broad corridor. She knew that because she’d counted them. Something about mindless tasks always sent her brain into an obsessive frenzy. But she thought she hid her obsession well. Everyone thought she’d worn the string necklace to show the number of kills she’d made, but it had always been so much more for her. Counting the strings calmed her and kept her wit sharp. She missed the necklace but not what it represented. Like Rakzar, she’d chosen a different path. Death didn’t hold all the answers and neither did killing for hire.
Twenty-seven paces along the corridor brought them to a massive room. Sandstone walls rose a good fifty feet on all four sides, and the ceiling rose from all four sides into a point in the center of the room. A pyramid structure about ten feet tall sat at the left center of the room. All four of its sides stepped up to a central platform no larger than a four foot square. Atop the pyramid stood a three-foot-tall pedestal. An orange, misshapen crystal protruded from the top of the pedestal, surrounded by glass.
Another pyramid with the same dimensions as the first sat at the right center of the room. Atop the second pyramid sat a large throne made of sandstone. The throne faced the first pyramid and some sort of helmet with horns sat on its seat.
About two hundred feet separated the two pyramids, and two enormous statues of a minotaur halved the distance on either side. Each statue stood at least a dozen feet tall, maybe more.
The hair on Urza’s hackles rose. “I don’t like the looks of this.”
Rakzar and Normak pushed past Urza and both of them headed toward the pyramid with the pedestal.
Rayah stayed by Urza’s side. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this as well.”
Click-click!
Urza’s knives fell into her waiting hands. The cold steel comforted her. She twirled the knives. “No matter what happens, I just wanted you to know you’re one of the only friends I’ve ever had.”
Rayah smiled but kept her gaze trained ahead. “Likewise.” She held her hands close to her hips and the knives from her belt flew into them.
Normak took a step back from the pedestal and lifted his war hammer over his shoulder. “Stand back, and I’ll git ‘er outta the box.”
Rakzar retreated several steps down the side of the pyramid. Normak grunted, cocked the war hammer way back over his shoulder, and gave a mighty roar as he swung it straight at the side of the pedestal encasement.
Crack!
Normak’s war hammer fell from his hands and crashed down onto the pyramid. He shook his hands wildly and cried out. “Now that smarts.”
Rakzar roared with laughter. “Told you the job was too big for a dwarf.” He picked up Normak’s war hammer and swung it at the encasement.
Crack!
Rakzar achieved the same result as Normak, and Normak howled with laughter. “Too big fer ya as well!”
Never send a man to do a woman’s job.
Urza turned to Rayah. “Wait here.”
Rayah nodded, her eyes little more than slits.
Urza sheathed her knives, dropped on all fours, and loped over to the pyramid with the pedestal. She examined the encasing. The two strikes from Normak’s war hammer hadn’t even left a scratch. Something must be required of them in order to retrieve the crystal, but what?
“Let’s check out the other pyramid,” said Rakzar.
Normak stood across the way atop the second pyramid in a few seconds flat. He held up what looked like the head of a minotaur. “Whoa, this be superb.” He slid the head over his own.
“No!” shouted Urza.
Normak screamed and clawed at the minotaur head he wore.
Urza and Rakzar raced from one pyramid to the other,
but Urza knew they’d arrived too late when Normak’s screaming ceased.
Rakzar approached Normak and the throne. Urza came up behind Rakzar.
Normak dropped his war hammer.
Bones cracked.
Normak’s body shook.
Arms and legs twisted. Cracked. Elongated. Bulked with muscle.
Boots split, revealing hoofed feet.
Eyes, wild with rage, grew into empty sockets.
Urza grabbed Rakzar’s arm and pulled him back.
The ground quaked.
Urza and Rakzar retreated down the pyramid.
A guttural roar filled the room.
Boom!
A sandstone boulder the size of a cottage slammed down right behind Rayah, blocking the only exit.
“What do we do?” asked Urza, still clutching Rakzar’s arm.
“Ready our weapons and prepare for death.”
The Normak-minotaur hybrid sat down on the throne and clutched the armrests. He filled the entire throne.
A sound reminiscent of breaking pottery drew Urza’s attention. “Gods…”
The two enormous minotaur statues cracked and exploded outward. Urza and Rakzar shielded their faces from the debris.
The dust settled.
Two minotaurs stood in their midst, each wielding an axe the size of Rayah.
The sound of hooves thundered in the room when they stomped the ground, but their twisted, maniacal roars are what drove Urza to action. “Run!” she screamed.
Rakzar went left and she went right. She didn’t look back. Couldn’t look back.
A whoosh at her back nearly toppled her. Must’ve been a swing from its axe.
As she ran, Urza searched desperately for Rayah, but couldn’t locate her.
She screamed Rayah’s name but the sound of all the chaos swallowed her voice.
A loud yelp drove a dagger through her heart.
Rakzar!
She chanced a glance to her right, where the yelp had come from. Rakzar lay on the ground, unmoving. The beast’s ax arced downward, straight for him.
She couldn’t watch. Couldn’t look away.
Rended Souls Page 35