Fortress of Radiance

by Marc Alan Edelheit

  Karus glanced briefly around the room, unhappy with the ranger’s explanation.

  “The Warriors of Anagradoom were the only ones able to enter the fortress,” Karus said as Tal’Thor lifted the top off of one of the trunks, which had broken off its hinges. “Is that right?”

  “To our knowledge.” Tal’Thor replaced the trunk top after glancing briefly inside and finding nothing of interest. “You are correct.”

  “Then where are they?” Karus asked. “All of this has been here for years, untouched. Dennig says his axe is incredibly valuable, and the arrows you found are apparently priceless. Where did they go? What happened to them?”

  “Nothing good,” Tal’Thor said, checking another trunk.

  “That’s my thinking as well.” Karus glanced around once more.

  Tal’Thor shot Si’Cara a sorrowful look. “The Anagradoom should have been here to greet us, for you, Karus, are the one for whom the sword was intended. That was how it was meant to be. Whatever happened …”

  Si’Cara gave a slow nod. “Tal is correct. Though my heart desires otherwise, I fear the worst now.”

  Karus gave out a breath as he considered Rarokan. He glanced around at the full racks along the wall. He had no need for any of the weapons here. There was only one that he was interested in.

  Karus moved past the elves toward the stairs at the far end the room. Like the floor, they were made out of poured concrete. They were also covered over in an age of dust and littered with debris from above. He placed his foot on the bottom step, testing it before putting his weight upon it. It seemed solid and stable enough. He glanced up the stairs. Part of the ceiling above remained, though it looked lower than it should have been. In the dim light, he realized it had partially collapsed and lay a few feet above the top of the stairs.

  There was a lot of debris on the stairs the higher he went. He could see some light from above and it was enough to light his way. He started up toward the second floor, where the quarters had been. Once up, he found there was not much to see. Roots from plants on the other side poked through the wreckage that had been the ceiling and roof. His view of whatever had once been up there was blocked, buried and lost for all time. He started back down the stairs and met Tal’Thor, who had been intending to come up.

  “The roof came down and it’s impassable,” Karus told the elf, who looked somewhat crestfallen at the news. “Let’s move on, shall we?”

  They emerged back into the sunlight, which now seemed overly bright. Tal’Thor and Si’Cara once again took the lead. Following the elves, they worked their way through the tangle of plants, ivy, and trees toward the remains of the prison. The walls of the building loomed high above them. Karus thought it might once have had a steep-pitched roof, but that was all gone now.

  The elves led them up to the two large barn-like doors. One of the doors had long ago fallen off and mostly rotted away, though a few boards could be seen poking up from the vegetation and soil at their feet. The elves looked in, Karus peering over their shoulders. The roof of the building had thoroughly collapsed, along with much of the second floor, so that the building was mainly a shell with a few interior walls and large piles of debris filling the inside, with open sky above. Plants and brush grew over the mounds of debris. One of the back walls had also partially collapsed, falling inward.

  “Si’Cara and I will explore the building,” Tal’Thor said. “There is no sense in anyone else going in. The walls could be unstable.”

  “We will wait,” Karus said. “Make it quick but also be sure you do it safely. It is a mess in there. I don’t want to have to dig you out and pick up the pieces.”

  Tal’Thor shot him a grin. Then the two elves entered the prison, moving carefully as they worked their way deeper into the building. Karus stepped back out into the light. He gazed around them. His eyes settled on the keep. What would they find there? Was the sword just waiting to be taken? He certainly hoped so. He did not want to spend any more time in this cursed ruin than he had to, for he had a bad feeling about the place. The suns were almost midway across the sky. The last thing Karus wanted was to spend the night in the fortress. If need be, they would return to their camp and come back in the morning, something he hoped they would not have to do.

  “This is as fine an axe as I’ve ever seen.” Dennig was still marveling at the weapon he had claimed for his own. The sides of the axe gleamed under the light from the two suns. It had surprised Karus that there was not even the hint of rust anywhere on the metal surface. In fact, the edges even appeared sharp, which he would’ve expected to have dulled and rusted with the passage of time.

  “Why is there no rust?” Karus asked. “Most of the other blades were plenty rusted and useless.”

  “Now you begin to see why this axe is so valuable.” Dennig tapped the side of the axe head. “This is made of a metal alloy, the composition of which is known only to my people.” Dennig’s tone reeked of pride. “Like those magical elven arrows, it is very, very rare. Mogan steel is difficult to forge. The ores required do not even exist upon this world. Such blades crafted with Mogan never need to be sharpened or polished, for they will not rust.”

  “Is it magic?” Karus asked.

  “It’s so good it should be.” Dennig shook the axe. “This weapon, and I feel confident when I tell you, was not crafted upon this world.”

  Karus shook his head slightly. Such things weren’t that hard to believe, at least anymore. He himself was from a different world, his own weapons, too. Karus felt a pang of regret. It was a place he would never see again. Rome was forever out of reach. There was no going back.

  “I am happy for you,” Karus said, amused by the dwarf’s enthusiasm. He nodded toward the axe. “Be sure you use it well.”

  “I intend to,” Dennig said, taking a test swing now that he was out in the relative open. He sliced a sapling neatly in two, the blade passing through with ease. “Oh, I intend to.”

  Karus turned to Amarra. She was silent, staring toward the keep, a distant look in her eyes.

  “What is it?” he asked, moving over to her. “What’s wrong?”

  Amarra did not immediately answer.

  “I feel something,” Amarra said, switching from Common to Latin and touching her chest. Her gaze flicked toward Dennig, who, like a child, was wholly absorbed with his new toy. It was clear she did not want the dwarf to overhear what was said. “It makes me feel not good inside. It is”—she seemed to struggle with the word—“how you say again, dark and ugly? I forget.”

  “Evil?” Karus asked, glancing toward the keep with alarm.

  “Yes,” Amarra said. “I think that is right word, evil.”

  “There is something evil in the keep then, isn’t there?” Karus jerked a thumb toward the keep.

  “That is just it,” Amarra said and chewed at her lip. She turned in the direction they had come and gazed toward the gate. He got the sense she wasn’t really seeing the gate. “I feel it out there. Not here with fortress.”

  “You do?” Karus asked, surprised.

  She nodded, gaze still focused toward the gate. “I feel its power.”

  “And you don’t know what it is?” Karus asked.

  “No,” Amarra said, turning back to him. She shuddered slightly, as if suddenly chilled. Her eyes searched his face. “It knows we are here. It is coming.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” Karus said. “Is it near?”

  Amarra closed her eyes. A moment later she opened them, her gaze piercing and clear. “Not close, but coming. We have broken something, a protection, I think, that kept others out. A spell, maybe? Soon … it will be here, and it comes for the sword.”

  “Is the High Father telling you this?” Karus asked.

  Amarra shook her head and then touched her chest. “When we see High Father, he opened up something in me. It unlocked power. I feel things now. I just need to listen inside. I learn to listen better each day. That is how I know, understand?”


  Karus rubbed his jaw with his thumb.

  “And you don’t know how much time we have?” Karus asked. “Before whatever it is gets here?”

  “No,” Amarra said. “But we need to hurry.”

  Tal’Thor and Si’Cara emerged from the remains of the prison.

  “There’s no one in there, nothing,” Si’Cara said. “Just empty cells and ruin, no sign that anyone has been in there for some time. It is strange. There are not even any animal tracks or burrows.”

  “What’s wrong?” Tal’Thor asked, eyes narrowing. He had clearly sensed something was not quite right between Karus and Amarra.

  “It seems we may not have much time here,” Karus said. “Amarra feels something is coming to the fortress—for the sword.”

  “I don’t know what it is,” Amarra said, switching back to Common. “But it knows we are here, that we have entered the fortress. It is coming to stop us, to claim the sword.”

  “Then we must hurry,” Si’Cara said. “We have to find the sword and leave this place before whatever it is gets here.”

  “Wait, wait!” Dennig said in a dramatic fashion, drawing everyone’s attention. He held his hand to his temple. “I’m beginning the sense something myself.” The dwarf closed his eyes briefly, then opened them, looking straight at Karus. “I sense you attract trouble, son.”

  Dennig burst out laughing. No one joined in. Amarra looked quite annoyed. The dwarf stopped laughing.

  “Poor timing?” Dennig asked and grinned. “I thought I would lighten things up a bit.”

  “Very funny,” Karus said and turned toward the keep. “Let’s go.”

  They worked their way through the brush toward the entrance to the keep. When they were halfway there, they came across a well that was completely covered over in ivy. Karus only found it because he literally stumbled into it. It was now little more than a pile of old stones about waist high. Most of the stone blocks had shifted and tumbled into the well, blocking off the hole where water would have once been drawn. Karus moved around it and continued on.

  In the time it took him to work his way around the old well, the elves had passed beyond his vision, the foliage concealing them both. Karus continued in the same direction and pushed through a large bush, shoving the ivy out of the way. He found himself before the door to the keep. It was another heavily reinforced door, the metal bracings rusted and corroded. Tal’Thor and Si’Cara were already trying to force it open. It wouldn’t budge. The hinges on the inside were apparently stuck. That or the door was simply locked. Karus tried himself and decided that it was more than simply frozen hinges.

  “It’s definitely locked,” Karus said, “bolted from the inside.”

  “Stand aside,” Dennig ordered, hefting his axe. They stepped back and away. The dwarf raised the axe above his head and then, with a powerful motion, swung it downward at the center of the door.

  There was a loud crack and the axe bounced backward, almost smacking Dennig with the reverse side of the blade. The dwarf stumbled back a couple of steps. He set the axe, head down, upon the ground between his legs and groaned in agony. He opened and closed his hands, ringing them out, for the blow had clearly stung. Karus saw the door was untouched, undamaged, the wood not even nicked.

  Dennig looked up at the door to the keep. His jaw flexed and his face turned beet red.

  “All right, you bastard of a door.” Dennig picked the axe back up, hefting it above his head for another go.

  “Wait,” Si’Cara said.

  Ignoring her, the dwarf grunted loudly, yelled something out in his own language, and struck at the door again. So powerful was the blow and unyielding the door that the axe flew backward out of Dennig’s hand, landing several feet away in the brush. The dwarf bent over, clutching his hands. Clearly the blow had hurt much more than the previous strike.

  After a moment, he straightened up, eyeing the door as if it were a hated adversary.

  “Doorknocker,” Karus said, inspiration hitting him.

  “What?” Dennig asked, looking over and blinking in confusion.

  “I think you should name the axe Doorknocker,” Karus said.

  “Ah!” Dennig shook a finger at Karus and then grinned. “Ha, ha, ha. You have a sense of humor. You are so serious, I had feared you hadn’t one.”

  “I’m in the army,” Karus said. “A sense of humor is required.”

  “Truer words were never said.” Dennig went back and picked up his axe. He checked it for damage as he returned to them. There was not a nick or a dent on it. Both the door to the keep and the axe seemed wholly unaffected by Dennig’s abuse. “I am starting to like you, Karus.”

  “Before you try again, you should know something,” Si’Cara said to the dwarf.

  “And what is that?” Dennig asked, eyeing his new nemesis, the door.

  “I am almost certain the door has magic,” Si’Cara said. “It is shielded, to preserve it. It is why the fortress gates, the guardhouse door, and this one still stand and have not rotted away like the prison’s doors. Your attack upon it only proves it true.”

  “It might be,” Tal’Thor conceded, “but that doesn’t explain why the gate to the fortress was unlocked.”

  “Maybe it was never locked in the first place,” Si’Cara countered.

  “Then why is this one locked?” Amarra asked.

  They fell silent at that.

  “We still don’t know what happened to the Warriors of Anagradoom,” Karus said. “Is it possible that they left the fortress?”

  “No,” Tal’Thor said with a little shake of his head. “I don’t think so. They are still here somewhere, either alive”—he glanced over at Si’Cara—“or dead.”

  Si’Cara took a deep breath. “Hopefully alive.”

  “They understood from the beginning when they volunteered,” Tal’Thor said, “that the High Master was going to use his magic to ensure they could not leave, at least until the sword was claimed. Besides, someone had to lock this door from the inside, now, didn’t they?”

  “So,” Dennig said, “they could still be in there, waiting for us?”

  “Yes,” Si’Cara said, with a strained, hopeful expression that did little to hide her true thoughts. “They could be. I am thinking getting past this door could be another test.”

  Tal’Thor looked upward and stepped back, studying the keep’s wall. He held his hand up to shield his eyes from the suns. “If it is another test, ah … I really don’t want to, but I guess we could try climbing. There is a window up there we could get through.”

  Karus studied the wall as well, which was badly weathered and nearly covered over in ivy. The vines were almost as thick as ropes, the green leaves broad and full. He thought climbing might be doable. The years of weathering had created plenty of handholds amongst the stones, but at the same time, it would still be quite hazardous. There was no telling if any of the stones were loose or would crumble as they took weight.

  “I have an idea,” Si’Cara said suddenly and stepped back several feet. She set her bundle of arrows on the ground and then untied it, opening it up. She pulled out one of the arrows she had taken from the guardhouse armory. It was the snub-nosed arrow with blue fletching.

  “Are you certain that is wise?” Tal’Thor asked. “Those don’t grow on trees, you know.”

  She shot him a feral grin in reply.

  “What do you intend?” Karus asked, recognizing the arrow Tal’Thor had shown interest in.

  “This was left for some purpose,” Si’Cara said. “Only a ranger would know what it was and its true use.” She turned to Karus and Amarra. “In our language, it is called a prinque. It roughly translates to ‘penetrator’ in Common.”

  “Such arrows are designed to break magical shielding,” Tal’Thor said, looking on his wife with a wry expression. “They are quite powerful tools and should not be squandered. But I think she’s right. These arrows were left for a purpose.”

  “How can you be sure?” Karus asked.
r />   “Because they are incredibly valuable and rare,” Tal’Thor said. “They would not have been left where they were unless they were meant to be found and used. At least, we will know for sure in a moment. This all depends upon how strong the shielding on the door is. With luck, the prinque will take the shield down.”

  “And if it doesn’t?” Dennig asked. “What then?”

  “We find another way in, dwarf,” Si’Cara said. “Now, stand well back from the door. I’ve always wanted to see what one of these could do.”

  They did as instructed.

  Si’Cara took up her bow and nocked the arrow. She took a moment to aim and then loosed. There was a brilliant flash of light, followed by a booming sound that shook the ground beneath their feet. The door disintegrated, coming apart and exploding inward. It was as if a ballista ball had smashed straight through the wood. The ground beneath Karus’s feet trembled. Had there been anyone standing on the other side of the door, they would have died instantly.

  Wisps of smoke swirled about from where the door had been a moment before. There was an acrid, burnt stench on the air. The smoke and smell on the outside of the door to the keep dissipated rapidly as a gust of wind carried it away, revealing a darkened interior beyond. It was like peering into a murky cave.

  “Wasn’t that just handy,” Dennig said with true admiration, looking from Si’Cara to the keep and then back again. “There was a time or two when I could have used such a tool. Would you be interested in selling the last one? I would pay handsomely.”

  “Forget it, dwarf,” Tal’Thor laughed. “You can’t have them and we have no need for your money.”

  “I know,” Dennig said with a heavy sigh. “It was worth a try, though.”

  Drawing his sword, Karus stepped up to the door. He put his hand on the frame, which was warm to the touch. He looked inward. Smoke and dust were heavy on the air within, but from what he could see, it was clear. There was no one inside and had not been for a good number of years.