“I can't hear you,” Visra sniggered. She drew her sword before she dived head first off the path.
Eliesmore drew in sharp breaths as arrows from Zhane and Arldrine flew. They met their mark, sending woísts shrieking into blackness. A hiss echoed throughout the caverns.
“Run. Follow me,” Idrithar ordered, dashing forward.
Optimistic paused, lifted his bow, and nocked an arrow in it. He releasing it and stepped back, narrowing his eyes as the fatal arrow flew. He was rewarded with a shriek as a creature fell.
“Yamier, next time let’s ask for bows,” Wekin complained. His lips were turned down in jealousy.
Arrows flew toward them faster than the Green Company could return them. The path grew even narrower, ending in a bridge. “Lead, Zhane.” Idrithar pulled away at the last moment.
“But…” Zhane started to protest.
“Go, follow the woísts,” Idrithar ordered.
As the company slid past him, Idrithar lifted a hand. Blue light glowed as his mouth moved as he whispered words. He closed his eyes, letting the undercurrent of power surge before he released it. Arrows flew toward the Green Company as Idrithar’s power unfurled, disintegrating the arrows in mid-flight.
Eliesmore would have cheered if he had managed to find his voice. Instead, he saw a group of woísts in front of Zhane. The creatures turned at the noise and drew their swords, running back to meet the Green Company and take part in the battle.
Zhane dropped his bow. “Visra,” he shouted. “We need you up here. Now. Eliesmore and Optimistic, stay back.”
“Archers at the ready,” Arldrine ordered.
“Aim for the ones in the back,” Zhane shouted as he ran forward, drawing his sword.
The woísts dashed toward Zhane, although the narrowness of the bridge forced them to go one at a time. The first one lifted its battleax, but Zhane was faster. He spun his sword into the side of a woíst, knocking it off balance. It teetered on the edge of the bridge before falling, but Zhane had already moved on to the next one. He threw a punch as the woíst lifted a shield to deflect the blow. Zhane drove his sword into the woíst’s side. “Aim for the chinks in their armor,” he shouted back.
Visra alighted on the edge of the bridge, laughing with glee as she lifted her sword. “Énvictosry!” she called—slicing, cutting, maiming, wounding, and moving almost faster than Zhane.
Eliesmore watched in horror as the two of them mowed down the woísts like wheat during a harvest. They cleared the bridge in a matter of minutes.
Yamier and Wekin dashed past Eliesmore and Optimistic with their swords in hand.
“Watch for the stairs,” Zhane called as he tore up them.
Woísts awaited him at the top, shooting arrows down on his covered head.
“My turn.” Visra flew up, zipping between arrows as she dived into the melee; she scattered woísts left and right.
Zhane soon joined her as they cleared a path.
Optimistic gave a low whistle. “Ready, Eliesmore?”
Eliesmore drew his sword, spurred onwards by the hissing that grew louder.
Idrithar and Ellagine had turned to face whatever was behind him. “Ilidifwthien reihturfidli,” cried Ellagine, and her sword came to her, shining pale green.
Idrithar and Ellagine had not crossed the bridge. They stood side by side, allowing power to generate through their hands into their swords. A trope of woísts marched toward them, and when they caught sight of them, began to run. The woísts went down before they could lift their weapons.
Eliesmore stood in the wide stairs, fighting the woísts. He was thankful for the skills Zhane had taught him. The river of woísts continued to flow down; the ones Zhane and Visra missed lept to face Eliesmore’s sword and Optimistic’s bow. Yamier and Wekin stood just above Eliesmore; their faces were set in determination.
“One for the White Steeds!” Eliesmore heard Wekin celebrating after he pushed a woíst off the stairs.
“Two for the White Steeds.” Yamier grunted as two woísts fell.
“Three,” called Glashar as she shot arrows from where she stood in the middle of the bridge. She was shooting at the woísts Idrithar and Ellagine were fighting. “Woísts up above!” she warned them.
Eliesmore glanced up in the midst of fighting and saw woísts marching high above them. A shield smacked into Eliesmore’s side, pushing him toward the edge. He brought his sword up in retaliation, driving it into the woíst in front of him. It fell backward with its hands outstretched, taking three others with it. “Four for the White Steeds,” Eliesmore rejoiced.
A cry forced him to turn. Wekin had lost his footing and was sliding toward the edge of the stairs. A woíst was standing over him with a sword. Eliesmore leaped toward Wekin, pushing and fighting woísts out of his way. “Nehíthermal!” he shouted.
The woíst saw Eliesmore coming and turned to face him, throwing a dagger toward Eliesmore’s face. Eliesmore leaped to one side as the blade slid past him, the edges catching his cheek. A warm dribble of blood poured out from the scratch. Ignoring it, Eliesmore continued toward Wekin. As Eliesmore drew closer, the woíst kicked out a foot, punching Eliesmore in the gut. Eliesmore gasped and gripped his waist with one hand, doubling over from the pain. Shapes blurred before his eyes as he attempted to catch his breath. As he lifted his head, one of Optimistic’s arrows buried itself in the woíst head. It shrieked, falling off the stairs. Eliesmore stumbled, grabbing Wekin’s arm. “Are you okay?”
“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 a
re 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 still 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.
The Complete Four Worlds Series Page 97