The Complete Four Worlds Series

by Angela J. Ford

  Marklus, who had no previous experience with crocodiles, continued to aim at the scaly backs of the two in front of Crinte. One of his arrows bounced off the back of one creature, while the other sank into the stubby leg of another.

  “Their backs are too tough,” Crinte called. “Aim for their legs, mouths, or underbellies.”

  “I wish we had brought spears,” Legone complained as he kept pace with Marklus. He shot an arrow, aiming for a crocodile’s leg. The creature reared up to catch the arrow, snapping it in half with its teeth.

  “Yes,” Starman said tentatively as he snuck around the dark pools. “I don’t want to get close to them.”

  Crocodiles continued to pour out of the pools, stumbling over each other in their haste to taste the warriors. Their bodies effectively created a barrier, cutting off the route to the foot of the mountains.

  Alaireia moved ahead of Crinte to confront them, leaping from the back of one creature to the other. One crocodile thrashed below her, but balancing carefully, she drove her sword into its skull.

  “Watch out!” Starman called.

  Alaireia nodded in acknowledgement as she leaped to the next crocodile, repeating her movements. Legone drew another arrow and began to follow her lead, dancing across the creatures, clearing a path towards the mountains.

  “Hurry!” Crinte called to Starman, who was lagging behind.

  Apprehensive about coming into contact with the vicious reptiles, Starman moved forward, just as he heard a roar of thunder. He sniffed, and even past the foul stench of water, he could taste fresh rain in the air.

  Marklus whirled, sinking an arrow into the underbelly of a crocodile about to climb out of a dark pool. “A storm is coming!” he shouted.

  Crinte felt the first droplets of rain caress his face. He paused and inhaled, unknowingly tasting the last drops of freedom. Legone moved past him in a blur and the crocodiles hesitated before turning back to their pools, unwilling to fight when they could enjoy the cleansing water. A sharp blast of lightning struck the mountaintop, and a rumble of thunder echoed in return, shaking the ground. Starman tripped on black rock, crashing on the ground and almost rolling into a pool of water. A nearby crocodile reached out, snapping at his shoulder as he scrambled out of the way. Crinte was by his side instantly, slashing at the crocodile while pulling Starman upward and pushing him ahead.

  Alaireia and Legone were in the lead now, jogging towards the mountainside as light rain came pouring down on them. Abnormally dark clouds rolled across the sky, shutting out what remained of the light. The stretch of rock ended abruptly in the face of the Esife Peaks. “We have to climb,” Legone said as Crinte and Starman jogged up.

  “The rock will soon be too slick to climb in this rain,” Crinte urged them.

  Marklus opened his pack. “It’s a good thing I have rope.” He smiled, tossing it to Legone.

  Legone looked admiringly at him as he took the rope. “You do well planning ahead.”

  “I mean, we are headed to a canyon,” Marklus offered.

  Legone grasped a shelf of rock and pulled himself upward, moving quickly up the face of the mountains. He climbed diligently, attempting to beat the rain as it drummed down harder and faster. Marklus stood below with his arrow pointed upwards, aware surprise attacks could be awaiting them around the corner.

  Crinte stood guard between Starman and Alaireia, watching the dark pools ominously ripple in the rain. As the downpour increased, he lifted his head and rolled back his eyes until he could see clearly through the drops.

  “Crinte,” Marklus called. “Will you do the honors?” He pointed towards the rope Legone had secured at the top.

  Crinte sheathed his sword and grasped a length of rope. Even as the rain attempted to soak through it, the strings remained rough, giving him the right amount of traction as he began to climb. His foot slipped as he pressed it against the rock. He tried again, shoving his booted foot firmly against the sleek face of the mountain. Focusing on using his upper body strength, he began to climb, hand over hand. Legone gave him a hand at the top, then secured an arrow in his bow, turning to guard the peaks while Crinte held the rope for Starman. Alaireia was next, but by the time Marklus joined them at the top, the pouring rain had turned into a full white out.

  “Tie yourselves to the rope,” Crinte called. “That way we won’t lose each other in this storm.”

  Rain poured down in thick white sheets as Crinte took the lead, one hand holding the rough rope tied securely around his waist, and the other to his eyes, shielding them from the rain so that he could see ahead. The crumbling rocks gave way to foliage guiding the route into the heart of the mountains. Stout, leafless bushes stood five feet tall and created a curved path around the foothills. The surface flattened and Crinte drew his sword, prepared for the unexpected as they rounded the corner. The path continued on, but to the left, the mountain hunched over, like a giant sheltering itself from the storm. A gaping hole of blackness opened up, promising safety from the storm. Crinte stared at it, recalling his vision, but an ominous sense of foreboding filled his heart as he realized how far they had come and how close they were to completing their mission. His eyes had already begun to glow, ready to meet the shadows. As he moved forward, he felt the mountain shudder. The movement came from behind, and the rope around his waist was tugged forward sharply as Starman, Alaireia, Marklus, and Legone began to sprint.

  “What is that?” Starman cried in terror.

  “Run!” shouted Marklus frantically.

  Crinte turned and found himself staring up into the blazing eyes of a ten-foot-tall monster made of iron.

  42

  The Slutan Tunnels

  The monster did not make a sound. Instead, it moved one enormous foot forward, jarring the mountainside as it sat it down. Blue rusted armor covered it from head to toe; even its face was simply a mask with dead eyes staring out of it. Two short horns stuck out from either side of its head as it slowly, heavily, gained ground. In an upraised hand, it held a curved blade, which it brought down suddenly on a barren bush in its path. The bush split in half effortlessly and the monster moved forward, its unarmed hand out, reaching for the warriors.

  Crinte was swept along in the panic as his warriors dashed headlong for the looming entrance of the cave. Yet he could not look away from the monster. In the blinding rain, it pointed its shining blade at him, waving him on, daring him to come back. It was Alaireia who reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the rain into the musty tunnel. It smelled like stale water and leaves as he pressed against the solid wall of stone.

  “What is that?” Starman’s voice was trembling.

  Crinte peered through the wall of rain once more. “That has to be an Xero,” he whispered.

  The monster bent down to peer at them in the tunnels. The five shrank back, even though it was too large to fit through the opening. After a moment, it appeared to give up. There was an audible sigh of relief as the monster turned its back on them and took a step towards the mountains from whence it came. Instead, its dark shape cast a shadow over the entrance to the Slutan Tunnels. It squatted before collapsing with a jarring thud on the ground, effectively trapping the five warriors in utter darkness.

  The sound of rain hitting metal echoed eerily throughout the tunnels. Alaireia held her sword up and the light from it began to shine, displaying a narrow tunnel. “I suppose we should move forward now.”

  Legone reached up and touched the ceiling of the tunnel. “Let’s hope we have reached the narrowest point of these tunnels.”

  Alaireia turned to the yawning darkness around them, briefly lit up by the light of her sword. There was only space for them to walk single file as the path curved around, sloping gently downwards towards the heart of the mountain. Legone walked behind her, loosening the rope that bound them together, letting his end trail away until he was free again. Marklus followed suit, collecting the rope as everyone freed their ends. “I hear something,” he said into the silence,
barely allowing his voice to hover over a whisper. He stretched his ears as he listened to echoes, layers beneath his feet. “It sounds like chipping. Someone is striking rock repeatedly.”

  “I see nothing but darkness ahead,” Crinte chimed in. “Where is it coming from?”

  “I can’t tell.” Marklus turned his head towards the sound. “There are more of them, echoing off the rock. It throws their location, though. I cannot pinpoint it.”

  “They must be miners,” Legone told them. “The Sorns are known to spend their time digging for treasure.”

  “Makes sense.” Marklus looked around wide-eyed. “But what kind of treasure could be found here? And at this point, who is left to mine?”

  “It’s better not to speculate,” Crinte put in. “We just need to ensure they do not know we are here.”

  After a time, the rounded walls of the tunnel widened until the five were able to walk three in a row. Alaireia and Crinte moved to the front, while Starman walked between Marklus and Legone. He could feel the hair on his neck curling up as they walked. The clammy blackness behind him was unnerving. He almost expected to see the transformed walking out of the shadows. Reaching for the hilt of his sword, he felt the warmth of its energy vibrate from his fingertips through his body. Taking a deep breath, he let the feeling of calm pass through him before he was back in the darkness, creeping through the halls with his closest friends in the world.

  “Lights ahead,” Crinte warned sometime later.

  “Should I put my sword up?” Alaireia whispered.

  “They haven’t seen us yet,” Crinte replied.

  Marklus could hear the creatures breathing in unison as they marched forward, boot clad feet sure and steady, unaware of the unwanted visitors.

  “I thought this wasn’t a well-used road.” Starman’s voice quavered with concern.

  “We all did,” Legone said dryly. He moved to the right side of the road, drawing an arrow from his bow. “Might as well be prepared.”

  Marklus glanced over at Legone before reaching for an arrow from his quiver. He moved to the left side of the tunnel, stopping when he was directly across from Legone.

  “Starman, up here with me,” Crinte ordered. “Alaireia, stand behind us and mesmerize them.”

  Glittering eyes floated into view, attached to darkly robed bodies. There was a surprised snort as a group of thirty Gaslinks caught sight of the warriors. Eyes narrowed as they moved forward quickly and silently, weapons drawn.

  “Aim for their eyes!” Crinte ordered. “We hold this side of the tunnels; don’t let any of them get past you.”

  “Marklus?” Legone questioned.

  “Three. Two. One,” Marklus counted down. “Fire!”

  They loosened their shafts in a twin arch. Blue tipped arrows soared through the darkness, shafts fluttering before burying their heads in heartless yellow eyes. Two Gaslinks shrieked in pain and fell backward, desperately attempting to claw the arrows out of their eyes.

  “Again!” Legone cried.

  Marklus lifted his bow and they aimed together, reaching for another arrow as soon as the second ones left their bows.

  “Ready, Starman?” Crinte asked as the Gaslinks continued their rapid approach.

  “Let’s break some bones,” Starman agreed. His sword in both hands, he felt his strength and determination return. He struck before Crinte, shattering the wrist of the first Gaslink who raised its battle-axe at him. Starman shouted as he drove his sword into the Gaslink’s body, yanking it out in time to meet the sword of a second Gaslink. His strokes were sure, his slashes fatal as he cut down enemy after enemy. Crinte was on the right-hand side, his movements slower, yet he still drove his sword forward in a fury.

  Alaireia stood between Legone and Marklus, letting the golden light stream out from her sword, brightening as it flowed. The Gaslinks moved as if in slow motion under the spell of the light. Alaireia could feel her power soaring through her fingertips into her sword. As she lifted it higher to finish off the creatures with a blast of light, a club slammed into her back, sending a jolt of searing pain through her. With a cry of surprise, Alaireia, knocked off balance, fell to the ground, the light of her glowing sword going out as it left her hands and clattered to the floor. Legone spun around, sending an arrow flying into the darkness, striking whatever beast was behind them. He drew another, tense, watching the dimness for movement. Alaireia recovered quickly. She snatched up her sword and with another cry of pain, dragged herself off the ground. Her sword began to illuminate her attacker as she lifted it, her face grim, her eyes dark. A Garcrat stood heavy and large before her. Brown skin hung limp over its rolls of fat, and one abnormally long arm held a club that dragged on the ground. Coarse hairs stuck out from its flared nostrils, and small beady eyes sat sunken in its oversized head. A stench of rottenness emitted from its body. It looked down at Alaireia, and its ugly face stretched into a grin. Crinte and Starman finished dismantling the last Gaslink and turned. Legone and Marklus both had their arrows trained on the Garcrat’s body, yet something made them wait. A rough gurgle of laughter rumbled deep in the Garcrat’s throat. It choked, cleared it, then spoke in a deep, painful voice. “I have a message for you,” it rasped. “From the Ruler.” Its voice started fading. “Welcome.” It laughed, choked, then coughed again. “Welcome to the trap.”

  “Welcome to death!” Alaireia retorted as she drove her sword into its belly.

  Two arrows joined her sword and the Garcrat crashed to the ground in a slosh of bile fluid. Alaireia pulled her sword free and turned to look at Crinte. “What did it mean?”

  Crinte looked from the Gaslinks lying dead at their feet back to Alaireia. “I think someone wanted us here.”

  “Crinte.” Marklus spoke up. “What do you know?”

  Crinte picked up the torches the Gaslinks had dropped, relighting them as he handed one to each of his companions. “They are going to try to end us here. Something alerted him to our presence; hints of power yes, but more likely someone.” He looked at each of them in turn as it dawned on him. “Someone who knew we were strangers in the land and wanted us here. Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter. Their goal is to break our spirits and separate us. I must give you my vision so you can see your way forward, no matter what happens.” Crinte turned to Starman. “Quickly now, we need to move with all speed.” He placed his hands on Starman’s head, imparting a vision of the Slutan Tunnels. He moved to Legone and Marklus next, before finally placing his hands on Alaireia’s head. “Listen to me now. It does not matter what happens here in these Tunnels. No matter how dark or unending it seems, I need each of you to stand with me at the end. Hold to that. No matter what happens.”

  They nodded in the dim light, their faces pales and serious. “Now, Warriors of Mizine, run with me. Fight with me.”

  Crinte set off in a jog down the dark halls, while the others took a moment to shake his vision into place before following him into the curving darkness.

  43

  Into The Deep

  “We should sleep,” Crinte announced, hours later.

  “Here?” Starman asked, aghast, “in the middle of the tunnels?”

  Crinte raised his torch. “I’m looking for other options. Keep your eyes open.”

  “Keeping my eyes open is not the issue,” Legone murmured under his breath, for he was unable to see more than a few paces ahead in the darkness.

  Marklus ran his hand along the tunnel walls, his finger touching, exploring grooves. Pausing, he pressed his ear to the wall and listened before moving forward again.

  “What are you doing?” Alaireia whispered to him as she followed behind, trailing her fingers along the solid walls. She held a torch up, examining the curving stone, but nothing stood out to her.

  “Miners,” Marklus explained. “I still hear echoes of their pickaxes, chipping away in the deep. If miners carved these tunnels out of rock and mud, surely they would have created alcoves to sleep in, out of the way of the main path. Here, one cannot
tell when the sun rises or sets. I assume they sleep in shifts, some always working.”

  Alaireia smiled in the darkness, her white teeth glinting oddly against the torchlight. “That’s smart, Marklus. I like the way you think.”

  Turning his curly head, he looked back at her, catching her dark eyes in approval. “You surprise me. Sometimes, you seem to know everything.”

  “Maybe in the world of light,” Alaireia replied gently, blending back into the shadows. “But in the darkness…” She trailed off, shivering.

  “Ah,” Marklus’ voice sighed in success a few seconds later. “Here is a hollow in the stone. Crinte, your help with this?”

  Crinte handed his unnecessary torch to Starman. Using his night vision, he leaned against the stone to help Marklus find a depression in the grooves. There was an audible click as they pushed together. Legone backed away as the stone shuddered away from the wall, an arrow in his bow in anticipation of any nasty surprises.

  A jagged crack in the tunnel wall opened up as Crinte and Marklus pushed against the stone. As soon as it was loose it slid back smoothly, revealing a long, narrow inner chamber.

  “Think we will all fit?” Starman asked, raising his torch skeptically.

  Crinte pulled back sharply with a finger to his lips. “This spot is already taken.”