“Fine. I’m ready for the next one.” Wekin grinned. He hopped up the stairs, swung at a woíst, and missed.
The Holesmoles echoed with the clash of steel as Zhane moved higher up the stairs. The woísts who weren’t fighting were shouting: “Trouble. Trouble. Deep black evil.”
A rage came over them as they marched, pounding their torches with fury as they moved faster. The voice of the Dark One had stopped, leaving only the shadow of a call. The desire for battle and blood hung like a cloud over the gaping caverns.
The hissing grew louder, causing the stone framework to shake.
“Run. Up the stairs,” Zhane bellowed. “We need to reach firmer ground.”
“Énvictosry!” cried Visra, making a path with her sword.
“Idrithar and Ellagine!” Dathiem turned to help them.
“Go across the bridge,” Idrithar yelled to Ellagine.
Ellagine turned, dashing across the bridge and catching up with Glashar. The advance of the woísts slowed as they saw the power Idrithar wielded and what became of their comrades.
As they ran, Eliesmore could see that the stairs ended in a series of broken ledges. The woísts ahead were leading from one ledge to the other, often jumping over a gap of three to four feet. Another bridge guided them upward with a staircase at the end.
“Bridge. Stairs. Jump. Jump,” Wekin repeated to himself.
Arldrine took the stairs two at a time, passing the Crons as she sought to catch up with Zhane. She held her dagger in one hand and Zhane’s bow in the other. “Zhane.” She tossed him the bow.
“Thanks.” He caught the bow and slung it onto his back. “Be careful.”
She gave him a sharp nod. “We might have to climb a bit here.”
The Green Company moved upwards, leaping from ledge to ledge. The stone shuddered again as the hissing continued. A shriek came from the woísts, and suddenly the army was running.
Eliesmore scrambled up a ledge and paused. Turning, he gazed down. His eyes widened in terror at what he saw.
The head of a snake was rising from the depths, uncoiling from a massive body. Eliesmore felt dwarfed in size as he stared at the flat head and rows of silver and black scales covering its body. The snake opened its mouth, revealing five-foot-long fangs that glistened in the torchlight. A pink, forked tongue flicked in and out as it dived. Its solid body rippled as it consumed a group of woísts.
“Ìal iál, the great Python!” cried Dathiem.
“Run,” commanded Idrithar, “weapons are no use.”
Eliesmore’s mouth was dry as Optimistic nudged him. He leaped upward with his hands shaking. Panic seized him, squeezing his heart. Regardless of how quickly his legs moved, his eyes were drawn back to the horrific monster that was climbing out of the deep. The hissing continued, and its tail slammed into stone, knocking down a bridge.
The woísts closer to the Python began to run; they tripped over each other in their urgency.
“Ìal iál, bálangers!” Arldrine shouted as she led the way.
Looking up, Eliesmore could see bálangers throwing rocks at the Python, the woísts, and anything else that moved.
Dathiem swung up from the ledges, taking the lead. He turned to give a hand to those behind him, leaving Zhane to help Ellagine and Idrithar. Idrithar had slowed down to watch the Python, determining how best to immobilize it.
The Python slithered closer to the Green Company. Arldrine and Dathiem sent a rain of arrows. The arrows bounced off the Python, and it hissed, lunging forward to repay the insult.
“Don’t stop. Run,” Zhane shouted to those ahead, waving his hands to keep them moving.
Optimistic and Glashar paused to aim at the creature; their arrows were rendered just as ineffective. The Python reared back its head and hissed before slithering forward. Its body rippled over the stairs as it moved upward.
Zhane crouched, leaning over open space to send an arrow toward the mouth of the Python. The arrow hit one of the fangs and bounced off. “Aim for the mouth,” Idrithar ordered as he ran up the stairs behind Ellagine.
The Green Company raced up more stairs and started across a second bridge. Idrithar stood at the top of the stairs and waited for the Python to come.
Eliesmore felt equally frightened for Idrithar; he wanted to run back and help, yet there was nothing he could do. Across the bridge, Dathiem stood, waiting for the others to catch up. While Dathiem waited, he sent arrows after the woísts in front of them. Arldrine stayed behind; she was running last. She turned and sent arrow after arrow flying for the Python, never missing. The Python continued up the stairs toward Idrithar who stood, waiting. His face was calm and impassive.
“Be careful, Idrithar,” Arldrine cried in alarm.
“Go ahead, Arldrine. I’ll stay behind with him.” Zhane pushed her ahead of him.
Arldrine obeyed and climbed after the others as quickly as she could. Eliesmore stopped frozen on the stairs as he watched Idrithar. The Python had nearly reached him. Idrithar sprang forward, crying, “Elíduther!”
The Python reared its head and dove for Idrithar.
Eliesmore gasped, jumping back as if his movements would assist Idrithar.
Idrithar did not hesitate. He did not back down. He drove his sword forward, allowing it to do what the arrows were unable to do, which was penetrate the Python’s thick scales.
Zhane, who had been using his bow, unsheathed his sword and dashed back across the bridge to assist Idrithar.
Eliesmore heard Dathiem shouting at them to follow while Idrithar distracted the Python, yet everything seemed to happen in a faint blur.
The bridges and stairs continued to shake, great chunks of rock falling from either broken paths or stones from the bálangers.
“Go back! Go back! Lest you lose your lives!” Idrithar waved Zhane away.
Zhane withdrew from Idrithar, running back across the bridge. As he reached the stairs, he stopped. He picked up a spear one of the woísts had dropped. He twirled it in his hands, testing the balance. Leaning back, he lifted his arm as the Python roared. Its mouth was wide open as it plunged to snap up Idrithar.
Zhane hurled the spear. It twirled through the air; its sharp point gleamed as it snagged on the softness of the Python’s mouth. The Python flailed in pain, slamming its mouth shut. The spear snapped in half.
The Python wavered, the fury fading from its orange silted eyes. It weaved back and forth and dived. The bridge Idrithar stood on disintegrated as the Python fell. Zhane sprang away, dashing up the stairs toward the rest of the Green Company.
Eliesmore stared in horror as he saw Idrithar disappear into clouds of rubble. He could hear himself shouting in astonishment. A hand clapped his shoulder as he saw Visra fly out of the rubble, dragging Idrithar with her. She tossed him on the stairs, grinning from ear to ear at his shocked expression.
64
Eliesmore
As odd as it seemed, the battle with the woísts and the great Python renewed their spirits. Escaping, the company hid in a room under a staircase much later, nursing their bruises and eating mocholeach. Visra had decided to scout ahead, laughing in Idrithar’s face when he told her it was too dangerous.
“The air has shifted,” Idrithar told them as they waited for Visra to return. They slept in turns; one of them was always keeping watch. “I would not be surprised if we are almost out of this place.”
As if confirming his speculation, Visra returned. She alighted in the doorway, tossing the hood off her cloak. “Daylight.” She grinned. “I saw daylight.”
“How far is it?” Zhane asked.
Visra shrugged. “A few miles. We have to go through a great hall where all paths end. Some of the woísts have passed, but more will come.”
“A great hall.” Idrithar stroked his beard.
Daylight. Eliesmore sighed, glancing at Ellagine. She had the hood pulled over her light hair, and her eyes were downcast. He’d seen the change in her since they had gone underground. Her earlier words s
till buzzed in his ears. Why was he the One? Why was he doing this?
“We should go now without delay,” Glashar spoke up. Her bow was in one hand while the other was on Dathiem’s arm.
“Agreed.” Arldrine stepped forward.
Idrithar nodded. “Keep your weapons ready. We run until we can run no more. We fight until we can fight no more. Come.”
He bent forward and led the way. His brown hair was streaming behind him, greasy and slick, while sparks of blue light rippled from his hands.
Eliesmore ran beside Optimistic, listening as the gruff voices chanting and the sound of chain and iron against stone drew nearer. Their narrow escape with the Python had been lucky. Frightened away, the woísts had not made an attempt to fight or hunt down the Green Company. Eliesmore wondered if their cloaks were responsible, hiding them from seeking eyes. Mermis. He mulled over their powers as the company ran. In tales of old, he’s never heard of a Mermi holding power, yet they gave the Five Warriors the gift of invincibility. The Green Company wore enchanted cloaks; he was curious if the potency of them would wear off and if so, when.
Idrithar reached the hall first. Columns rose up more than fifty feet in the air. White bones gleamed in the torchlight, casting a wicked glow across the path. Clouds of dirt descended into rot, hiding what might be the twinkle of buried jewels.
The vast hall was silent. Waiting. Idrithar led the way with a sword in hand. Next came Dathiem with his bow and arrow ready. Glashar, Arldrine, and Eliesmore were behind him. Optimistic, Yamier, and Wekin trailed with Visra, Ellagine, and Zhane at the end. Zhane turned around from time to time, peering into darkness, but the passageways were silent.
They were in the middle of the hall when it happened. The chanting buzzed into the ears of the Green Company, resounding as the acoustics picked up the voices of the woísts. One moment they were alone. In the next moment, the hall teemed with life as the woísts poured in from every corner of the Holesmoles.
Out of the corner of his eye, Eliesmore saw his companions spread out. He drew his sword, waiting for the cold fear to center over his heart. It was impossible for the quest to succeed, not in the Holesmoles and not with the woísts blocking their passage. Minutes passed in slow motion as the Green Company sprang for the woísts, clearing a path toward the summit. The world rotated. If they failed, life would end. A lament rose on Eliesmore’s lips, and he cried:
“Ìal iál íthar
Isgurald dlarugsí ea alidír
Líbrth hearstra artstaeh
Ìal iál.”
He sprang at the throat of a woíst in front of him. He twirled his sword, ducking and swinging his blade into the woíst’s head. The creature collapsed at his feet while three more took its place. Eliesmore roared, waved his sword, and sprung into the midst of them.
Blood made his fingers slick and sweat rolled down his back. While his cloak blocked blows from the woísts, Eliesmore knew it was only a matter of time before he was trampled under their feet. His fingers ached from gripping his sword, his arms burned from thrusting, his eyes hurt, his throat was dry, and the river of woísts continued without ceasing.
Suddenly a roar reverberated throughout the Holesmoles. A frozen silence swept across the hall. Eliesmore paused with his foot on a woíst's throat and looked up. A foul wind rushed through the caverns, blowing out the torches and flecks of power drifting from Idrithar’s and Ellagine’s fingertips. A foul stench permeated the air. A command thundered across the Holesmoles with an intense power that compelled Eliesmore to drop his sword, cringing and putting his hands over his ears. The command turned into a raw roar. It was a horrific cry from an age-old creature.
Eliesmore found himself bowing. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he put his hands on his ears. His mouth was open in a scream, waiting for it to cease. When the roaring ended, Eliesmore opened his eyes. He was breathing hard. He reached for his sword as a fog of evil passed over his vision. The woísts were gone.
When he looked up, he saw a glimmer of daylight streaming in from the cliffs high above him. It was only a tiny light, but it was enough. He stood, ignored his cuts and bruises, and began to run.
The hall ended with stairs, and where the stairs ended, there was rock. Woísts were above him; they were running, jumping, and leaping as they fought their way out. Eliesmore started up the stairs when he felt white fire smash into his head. Bending over, he held onto his ears as the deafening roar rolled through the Holesmoles again. His stomach rolled in waves of nausea as the command stripped him of willpower. Screams went up around him; there was wailing until the roar faded. The air was thick and heavy as Eliesmore stood, wiping his eyes.
A hand touched his arm, and he looked up into Zhane’s flushed face. “Hood up. Climb.”
Eliesmore pulled on his hood with one hand, putting his sword on his back. Random arrows whizzed toward him, slamming into the protective covering of his cloak and falling uselessly on the cliff. Eliesmore slipped on loose stones and almost fell, but Dathiem appeared behind him, reaching out a hand to steady Eliesmore’s footing.
The bleak blackness of the caverns continued to press in because the torches had not been relit. Glancing behind, Eliesmore blinked. He was unable to see the difference between shadows and blackness. There was something back there. Something was coming for them. He noted with relief the Green Company was with him. Some were still on the stairs; others were climbing the face of the cliff with him, reaching for handholds and swinging themselves up.
When he reached the top, Eliesmore’s arms were shaking from the effort, and he gasped for breath, holding his side. The top was flat, leading to yet another foothill. Eliesmore swore under his breath, but the light streaming in higher up gave him hope.
“Ìal iál, the beast!” wailed Glashar.
Eliesmore jolted out of his reprieve.
“I thought those stories weren’t true!” cried Arldrine.
“They are in the Holesmoles,” Zhane said, hurrying on to the next set of steps.
“We can’t fight this,” Idrithar announced.
A horror seized Eliesmore as the thing materialized in the great hall. It was a shadow with a void so dark his eyes drowned in the shades of darkness rippling off it. He could see the muscles and ligaments that bound the creature to a form as it grew to a height of fifteen feet. Horns sprouted out of its skull. Its nose, which was the nose of a bull, sniffed the air. Its feet were cleaved, and three tails sprung out from its hindquarters. Darkness moved across its body, blending with the shadows, until Eliesmore was unsure what he saw. The creature seemed invisible yet visible, there yet not there. The being held what appeared to be a lightning bolt in one hand or tentacle. It threw back its head and bellowed.
“Go now!” Idrithar shouted.
“We have to get out,” Zhane echoed.
“Eliesmore, climb,” Dathiem ordered. The command was odd coming from the Tider.
Optimistic climbed beside Eliesmore. His face was pale, and his lips were closed in a straight line. “Eliesmore, if we don’t get out, will you take the Green Stone?”
“What do you mean?” Eliesmore cried, his eyes wide as he stared at Optimistic.
“We have to protect you. You must get out and go on. You are the One. The rest of us…” Optimistic shrugged. Reaching a hand into his tunic, he pulled out a weighted bag. “Take it.”
“Optimistic, no…” Eliesmore started, a lump in his throat.
“Take it.” Optimistic pressed it into Eliesmore’s hand. “Go. We will join you, when or if we can.”
Tears sprung to his eyes as Eliesmore tucked the Green Stone into his tunic and began to climb. He could not lose them. He could not complete his quest without them. They were the Green Company. They were his protectors. They were his friends. The thought bolted into Eliesmore’s mind full force. Friends. Something he’d never had; something he’d never known he’d needed. Here, at the bleakest hour of the world, he found himself surrounded by those who were brave, who had great courage, an
d who were willing to lay down their lives, not just for him, but for the world. They were willing to make sacrifices for the greater good, allowing all who were born in the Four Worlds to experience life without fear, terror, pain, and the sorrow of those they loved most being ripped away.
Eliesmore reached the summit and ran up twisting staircases. He lept across missing stairs. A foamy darkness hung in the air, making it harder to breathe, yet he pressed on. At times, he lost his footing and caught himself at the last moment before he fell headlong into darkness. As he ran, it came to him. He knew why he was running and why he was fighting back. A memory hung faintly before his mind. There was a vision of the past when he sat on his mother’s knee and she told him—a young, green-eyed boy—about the great Heroes of Old. She had known he was the One, even as she related the tales of strength, courage, bravery, and exchanging one’s life for the greater good and for the lives of others. She had focused on heroic deeds and the desire to make things right.
There would always be those in the world who were weaker, unable to fight back, and desolate in their unhappiness. There would be those who were tortured, imprisoned, banished, and killed. There would be those who had their families ripped away, who were driven into hiding, and who feared for their lives. There would be those who would look up at each sunset and see it red with blood, the blood of those they had lost. What was most important in life wasn’t life in and of itself, it was what one did with one’s life to make a difference and to make the world better. What truly mattered was for someone to reach out, help the weak, save those from torture and death, bring families together, and bring hope and a new beginning for all. It wasn’t about being heroic, carrying powerful weapons and fighting great battles. It was about creating a future for others; it was a future that he did not have. It was a future his companions did not have, but it was a future for the children of the world, their children, and their children’s children. It would be a world where evil did not rise, where Changers did not win, and where Monrage did not roam and terrorize the people groups. It would be a world where creatures of the deep never stirred from their hidden holes and where light and beauty led the way. It would be a world where people cared for each other, were willing to lend a hand, and forgive each other for past crimes. It would be a world where a child could walk out of their home in peace without being mowed down by Black Horse Lords or sacrificed to the Changers for their potential powers. All these things he’d had: the safety of home, the beauty of dancing with the Iaens, the creatures of the wood, and a home with his beloved mother. All those things had been ripped away from him, and now it was up to him to change it, to bring hope, and to destroy the Changers.
Eliesmore and the Green Stone Page 33