Sacrifice of Ericc

by Anthony G. Wedgeworth

Time had been wasted on breakfast as the morning sun climbed into the sky. Bags were now packed and it was time to venture to the Carrion Mire.

  “I’m telling you Thorik, there is only one way up and that is to climb. I looked for other options and there’s none to be had. So you either have your friends follow my lead up the cliff, or they can stay behind.” Santorray placed a large coil of rope over each shoulder as he prepared for his ascent. “Of course, we could just forget this foolishness and head to Corrock. There may still be enough time to intercept Ericc.”

  Thorik pulled on his own backpack. “Why won’t you at least try what we found? If it doesn’t work we’ll try something else.”

  “Sec, you are trying to revive life into a Notarian device. This can only bring us bad fortune to our journey. I will not allow the nature of luck to frown upon me by touching such a thing. I’m going to climb up to that first outcropping and secure a line for those who wish to join me. Test your theory and then start your climb. We don’t want to get caught on the cliff face after dark.” The Blothrud began to scale the steep rock wall. “Alone this would not be easy, but with the older ones and the Ov, it may not even be possible.”

  Thorik watched the agility of the Blothrud as he made quick work of the first dozen yards. “Have it your way.”

  Santorray grasped the small exposed notches of rocks with his feet and hands as he moved upward. Boiling water from underground springs flowed from small cracks along the way, scalding his skin when touched. Loose sections of rocks gave way and fell to the ground when bumped or grabbed. Soon, the first three hundred feet were behind him.

  A thin segment peeled away from the rock face as the Blothrud pulled his body up with it. Letting go with his left hand and swinging himself to the right, the rock missed his body and tumbled down to the green grassland below, embedding itself into the lush grass and soil.

  Hanging by his one arm, he swung himself back to the left just as steam blasted out from where the thin rock had once rested. The scorching humid air hit him square in the chest.

  His skin instantly blistered and turned brown as he swung again to the right. But the steam left a permanent trail across his chest and shoulder. Any closer to his face and he could have lost his vision.

  Thorik settled the rest of the group down.

  Grewen sat cross-legged in the center of the engraved circle, which Gluic had exposed the night before. He took up most of the space, so the Nums had to sit on the Mognin’s legs or in Avanda’s case, on his shoulder.

  Ralph stood outside the circle, lifting his body up and down as he hissed at Grewen. Opening his mouth, he took on an attack stance to take on the giant.

  Grewen finally got the hint and lowered one hand to allow the lizard to run up his arm and over to Avanda. Perching on her shoulder, he hissed at Grewen in a display of dominance, while Avanda laughed at her little friend’s unwavering bravado that he was as big as everyone else.

  Brimmelle squirmed for the fifth time and adjusted the blanket he sat on to ensure a barrier existed between himself and the giant’s leg. “This is foolishness, Thorik. How embarrassing this will be for you when nothing happens.”

  “I don’t know that anything will happen, but I’m willing to give it a try.”

  “I don’t see why we need to be part of this experiment. Seems foolish to put us at risk. Let the Altered go by himself to see first,” Brimmelle said.

  Gluic rested her stomach against the folds of Grewen’s leg to lean over the Mognin’s knee as she instructed Thorik. “Now, recall what you did last night. Listen to them. Once you hear them and feel them, place them where they belong.”

  Thorik tightened his backpack and held three of his Runestones out before him. Selecting the top one, he closed his eyes and felt the energy within it. The flow through his fingertips was no longer single directional. He could feel energy traveling into his arm as well as out of his own body to the stone itself.

  The gem in the center of his Runestone began to give a slight glow and the stone itself became hot to the touch. Holding it as long as he could, he finally set it firmly down into one of the carved hexagonal symbols within the floor.

  He quickly repeated the sequence two more times as he walked around the group. Sitting inside the circle when he released the third and final one, he held onto Grewen’s foot just in case something major occurred.

  Silence followed.

  Brimmelle continued to sit up straight on the giant’s leg. “Like I told you before, they are Runestones, not some sort of magical rocks from Avanda’s purse of disaster.”

  Avanda perked up at the idea, grabbing her purse of magical items. “Thorik, I can help.”

  “No!” the entire group said in chorus. She reluctantly put it away.

  Ralph spun around on her shoulder as he hissed at all of them for shouting at her, until she finally stroked the back of his head to let him know it was okay.

  Thorik watched the gems in the center of the stones continue to glow and pondered his options. Eventually he closed his eyes and touched the carvings in the floor themselves to perform the same process he had done with his individual Runestones.

  Gluic smiled and nodded. “Hold on tight.”

  Suddenly, the entire circle, on which they were seated, blasted up in the air. A column of marble, from under the engraved circle, raced toward the sky. The outer carved ridge of the circle itself was now the edge of the column’s surface.

  The force knocked Brimmelle backward into the center of the circle, with his head wedged under Grewen's loincloth. Avanda and Ralph shot off of Grewen’s shoulder, landing on Brimmelle’s stomach.

  “Wheeee!” screamed Gluic as the speed and force prevented her from lifting her head to see just how high the marble column had lifted them.

  The force had caught Thorik off guard as well. Slipping at the onset of the upward blast, his head and shoulders leaned over the edge of the ever-increasing tall column while his arms wrapped around Grewen’s toe.

  Unable to pull himself fully back onto the surface, he watched as their camp from last night shrunk into the distance. Speeding past Santorray, Thorik had no time to react as he watched the Blothrud nearly lose his footing at the sight.

  Rocketing up the cliff, Grewen struggled to move his jaw to speak. “Thorik.” His loud deep voice was faintly audible by even the Num’s ears. “Will this stop on its own? Or will you need to do something?” he shouted over the rumbling of the column.

  The thought never even occurred to the Num. Thorik pulled on the giant’s toe with all of his might, in an effort to lift himself back onto the platform. But he was unsuccessful until Grewen pulled his foot in tighter. This dragged Thorik in, but wedged Brimmelle even deeper into a position he had been trying to get out of.

  Thorik lay flat on his stomach and reached out to the carvings. Feeling the energy, he willed it to slow down.

  Nothing happened.

  “Gluic, I need your help. It won’t do as I tell it to.”

  Gluic enjoyed the ride, resting on the crease between the giant’s calf and thigh, just over Thorik’s position. “I won’t always be there for you. You can figure it out.”

  “Granna, this is not the time to learn.”

  “It’s the best time.”

  He tried again to order the stone to stop. It did not.

  “It won’t obey me,” Thorik shouted.

  “Who gave you the right to order it?” she said.

  They were reaching the top of the cliff at a violent speed. Thorik knew his forcing of the column to stop wouldn’t work, so he compelled himself to relax and allow the stones to draw out his calmness and slow down. It was only a theory, but he had to try something different.

  Reaching out his palms to touch the ridges in the platform, he thought of slowing down, but the fierce speed continued as they came into view of the cliff’s plateau.

  Thorik had to forget about what was going on. He had to recall a time when he was extremely calm, a time when he w
as at peace.

  A vision finally appeared in Thorik’s head. He was floating in the waters near the city of Kingsfoot. Back when they had first left Farbank. Back when life seemed so much simpler.

  Thorik’s arms stretched out at his sides as he and his beloved Emilen relaxed in the warm spring lake. The water tingled against his skin as it healed his cuts and battle wounds. A layer of mist coming off the lake made him feel like he was floating among the clouds.

  The vision then changed to Emilen and Thorik embracing. Holding each other, they peered up at the thousand-foot tall Mountain King carving as they rested in the half-submerged tail fin of a dolphin statue. He was at peace. He was content. Pulling her in tight, he knew it would be one of the few times in his life he would feel this way. Thorik turned to kiss her.

 

  Thorik suddenly realized they were stopped and snapped out of his daydream state. Opening his eyes, he quickly pushed himself away from Grewen’s toe, which he had been cuddling. While wiping his lips, after being pressed against Grewen’s skin, he noticed the giant’s grin at the event.

  The column had stopped adjacent with the top of the cliff, where a lifeless crust of land stood before them.

  A muffled voice could be heard. The group looked about, wondering what it could be.

  Thorik jumped off the monstrously tall column and onto the plateau. Still hearing the voice, he spun around. “It’s not coming from out here, it’s coming from the column.

  Grewen helped Avanda and Gluic over to the cliff before pulling Brimmelle out from under him, by his legs. “I thought that muffled voice was you.” The giant’s smile was large as he uncoiled his legs, hanging them both off the column’s ledge.

  Brimmelle hung upside down from Grewen’s grip, furiously wiping his face. “Put me down you filthy Altered.”

  Grewen complied and set him down in front of him.

  The Fir straightened up his clothes before wiping his face again. “The smell. I’ll never get it out of my nose. It’s horrid.”

  “Watch it.” Grewen warned Brimmelle of the dangerous location where he stood.

  However, the Fir took it the wrong way. “No, you watch it. Don’t ever touch me again.” Brimmelle backed away from the giant as he talked to him, unknowingly closing in on the column’s edge. “How dare you put me, the seventh Fir in my family line, into a position that makes me look like an…” His voice trailed off as he finally noticed that he was on top of a column’s platform, which was now a thousand feet in the air. He had missed the entire trip.

  The Fir’s knees buckled and ached. Light headed, he began to sway. Nausea kicked in as he envisioned himself falling. Unbalanced, his arms began to flail erratically, tipping him over the edge.

  Brimmelle fell from the column.

  He tumbled several feet before the giant’s outstretched hand caught him. In spite of the safe landing, Brimmelle’s body went limp as if he had crashed into the camp below.

  Grewen carried the shaking Fir onto the top of the cliff, toward Thorik. “Don’t forget your stones, little man.”

  Thorik agreed, removed his backpack, and jumped back onto the column. “The risk is that by removing them, the column may go down just as fast as it came up. Or perhaps it can’t move at all without the Runestones in them.”

  Grewen set Brimmelle down so he could get his bearings. “Or you could leave them and avoid the risk entirely.”

  “I’ve left my Runestones once before, and I vowed never to do that again.” Thorik leaped back across onto the column’s sturdy platform. Slowly, he placed his fingers on the edges of one of his Runestones to pull it up. Tilting the stone slightly, he was able to get his other fingers behind it and pull it out of the carved inset. The light from the gem in the center immediately went out.

  Crash! The thunderous noise echoed in their ears. Thorik dove for the cliff, landing and rolling to a stop at Grewen’s feet. Looking up, he could see a confused look by the giant who had his hands together in a clap of excitement. The noise had come from the giant, not the column.

  “Sorry, I was pleased to see the first one come out so easily,” Grewen said.

  Thorik placed the Runestone in his pack, and jumped back over to grab the rest. Reaching down to take the second one, he turned to watch Grewen who had his hands tucked firmly at his sides.

  The second and third Runestones came out without issue and the Num jumped back to safety as Santorray climbed up to the surface of the plateau.

  Hot, sweaty and exhausted, the Blothrud pulled himself up onto the ridge and sat back to observe the rest of the party.

  Brimmelle fanned himself to cool off his dizziness and regain his composure. “Let’s get out of this place, away from this cliff.”

  Panting from the hard climb, Santorray continued to rest. “You’re going to wish you were someplace as peaceful as this ledge once we enter Carrion Mire Valley.”

  “At least we will be down in a valley instead of up here in mountains.”

  Santorray pointed away from the cliff toward the passage leading between the mountains. “Around that bend is the base of the valley. There’s no going back down without going through the valley.”

  “We’ll get back down the same way we came up.” Brimmelle pointed toward the column.

  The column, however, had been forgotten for a few minutes and, in the meantime, had already slowly lowered itself nearly fifty feet as it continued its way back to the campsite.

  Santorray grinned. “I think your luck just ran out.”

  Chapter 24

  Carrion Mire