by RG Long
Blume’s hand touched the surface of the water just as Ealrin was taking all of this in. Tendrils of ice crept out from her fingers as she shivered again and began to shake. Ealrin crouched down beside her and grabbed onto her shoulders, not to take her away from the water, but to steady her. She was as cold as ice to his touch.
“You’ll be alright, Blume,” he said into her ear. He wasn’t sure if she could hear him over her whispered mutterings. She seemed in deep concentration. Ealrin also wasn’t sure if his reassurances were for her or for him.
More and more ice began to spread in a straight line. The creatures seemed to recoil from the magic that came their way. Ealrin held his breath. Maybe, just maybe, this would work.
The red light that illuminated the cave started to flicker.
“Bah,” Gorplin said, fingering his ax. “Keep that light on!”
“Keep the ice flowing,” Holve contradicted. “We need to get out of here.”
Ealrin kept a tight grip on Blume. She was shuddering now, nearly knocking Ealrin off of his toes. He placed a knee on the cave floor to keep his balance. Gorplin, Serinde, and Silverwolf all stood defensively. The cave dwellers were still out there, thrashing. Who knew if they would decide they were more hungry than cold?
Holve was staring intently at the other end of the lake. Ealrin couldn’t tell how far the ice had gone. Was it to the other end yet?
Blume gave a raspy gasp, then went limp in Ealrin’s hands. He kept her from falling forward into the water, but she had already lost touch with the surface of the lake. The light from above flickered out, returning to the small, dim stone on the end of the wand. Holve held it up high. Ealrin blinked furiously in order to get his eyes used to the near-darkness.
Out in the lake, the beasts screeched a horrible noise. Ealrin heard the splashing getting closer. Apparently, they could sense that the magic had left the cave.
“Weapons ready,” Holve said, still holding the wand high over his head, his spear in his other hand. “Follow me and don’t stop.”
“You’re insane,” Silverwolf said as she twirled her sword. “I knew you’d go senile on me, old man.”
Holve didn’t even give her a glance.
Ealrin was now picking up Blume and trying to carry her. He couldn’t sling her over his shoulder. She was too tall for that. He’d have to carry her out in front of him.
“Are you sure we can make it, Holve?” he asked.
“Serinde, stay by Ealrin and Blume,” the old man answered. “We’re moving. NOW!”
Holve ran out onto the ice. Ealrin had to restrain himself from telling him to be careful. That the ice might be too thin. There was no need. Holve was running across the lake’s top like it was solid.
Blume was a marvelous Speaker.
Silverwolf and Jurrin went next. Then Ealrin, followed by Gorplin and Serinde. Ealrin found it difficult to run on the slippery surface of the ice. It made getting his footing difficult. His only hope was that the beasts either couldn’t break through it or that they would have just as difficult as a time maneuvering on the ice as they did.
The only thing Ealrin had to guide him was the bouncing light ahead of him that Holve was holding. He just hoped that wherever Holve stepped, the ice would be solid. If he went under, Ealrin doubted the rest of the them would have enough traction to stop in time.
Just as that thought escaped his mind, the ice beside him buckled and shook. He stumbled away from it as one of the great beasts of the lake burst out of the ice and, using its enormous webbed claws, began scratching and dragging itself towards its next meal. Ealrin heard the loud cry of Gorplin as the dwarf charged the eel-like monstrosity, ax in the air and strong arms swinging it down in an arc.
The blade flashed a pale blue before striking the beast. Ealrin remembered some story about the ax being magical but couldn’t recall the details of it as he tried his best to keep himself and Blume moving forward. Serinde was at Gorplin’s side in a blink and together they hacked away at the eel.
Then Ealrin heard Gorplin grunt and Serinde shriek as they were both smacked by a massive limb. The beast had managed to knock them both off of their feet and was on them in an instant. Ealrin caught a glimpse of the rows and rows of white pearly teeth as its jaws opened wide to crush them both.
A blinding white light shone around him and Ealrin closed his eyes against the sight of it. He heard a yell, a furious blast of wind passed over him, and a gurgling sound of something wounded. When he opened his eyes again, Holve was there, spear in hand and helping Gorplin and Serinde to their feet.
Silverwolf was beside Ealrin, putting out a hand to steady his run.
“If we survive this, I’ll give Holve a kiss on his cheek,” she said with a grim expression, made more so by the red light off the wand.
Ealrin grunted a reply and ran after Holve, who had resumed his place at the front of the line. Jurrin was letting off chunks of ice as missiles as the next beast came closer, dragging itself quickly over the ice using its claws. Silverwolf struck out at it as it came near, taking off a few claws and earning a guttural scream from the jaws of the creature.
Ealrin wished he could cover his ears.
He also knew he needed to run for his life as well as Blume’s.
Holve was just ahead of him. And, blessedly, the wand’s dim light was beginning to bounce off the walls of the cave opposite them. Ealrin let a smile cross his lips. They just might survive this.
It was at that moment that as he stepped onto what he had hoped was solid ice. The thin sheet broke apart and his leg went down into the freezing cold water. Blume was thrown from his grasp as the force of his fall knocked him to the ground. He saw her limp body slide along the ice, right into the space where another eel broke up through the surface of the deep water and yelled triumphantly.
“NO!” Ealrin shouted.
Gorplin’s ax hit the extended claw of the beast just as Holve’s spear drove into its skull. The death throes of the animal shook both warriors off of it. Ealrin could see a sickly black goo on the ice where it clawed and scraped until it was dragged down under the surface by its own weight and flailing limbs.
Serinde helped Ealrin up out of the ice and Jurrin tended to Blume. The halfling looked busy with a piece of cloth as Ealrin came up to them. He was shivering and wet from chest all the way down.
“Is she... Is she alright?” he chattered through his shaking teeth.
“Just a little banged up,” Jurrin said, fastening his cloth around her forearm. It looked scratched, but nothing more.
Ealrin let himself smile just a bit.
“This tunnel is the one we need,” Holve said, still holding the glowing red wand over his head. Ealrin couldn’t make out his face, and he was too overdrawn right now to come up with any response other than a quick grunt.
He picked up Blume, who groaned a bit, but otherwise stayed asleep or unconscious. Whichever state she was in at the moment.
Distant gurgles and screeches told Ealrin that they would have some time, if not forever, to escape the creatures who lurked in the deep waters. Perhaps they would not pursue them and only stay behind to lick their wounds, or whatever eel like creatures did to recover from their losses.
Ealrin would have his own wounds to attempt to heal.
The least of which not being the burning feeling down in the pit of his stomach. It was a conflicting feeling as he carried the girl in his arms up a gradual incline of rock and loose stones. They were alive. That was something. But the other end of that truth bothered him greatly.
Holve had foolishly and, perhaps knowingly, put Blume in danger.
16: Prince and the Prophet
Jerius marched obediently behind Prince Farnus on his horse. Neither the view nor the smell had improved in the last few hours of travel. They had left quickly after inspecting the damage done to the wall of the temple in Arranus. Farnus had recruited several guards and sent off one letter before calling for his steed and his traveling pack.
<
br /> In the war, it was said, Prince Farnus would march with his men for days. Through the jungles of the center of their land, through the snows of the north or the wastes of the south, Farnus was a hardy general.
So it was said.
Jerius felt like anyone could be hardy if they had a horse to ride on. He was not a muscular man. The robes he wore kept bunching up around his sweaty limbs as he trudged after the prince. Years of study and solitude had not produced in him the warrior’s build. That was for the prince and his soldiers.
It was odd to be marching alongside men in uniform. It was a rare sight in Arranus and felt strange to Jerius. He was used to the female guards of the temple and those who guarded the complex it sat on. Only a small contingent of male soldiers were in Arranus. The temple guards took care of most of the policing and security. Jerius felt more secure with these ladies than with the men.
This was potentially due to the fact that the female guards were his subordinates.
The men answered only to Farnus.
“Do not fall behind, Luca!” Jerius shouted over his shoulder, not knowing where the female guard actually was at the moment.
“Yes, Prophet,” came a call from behind him.
Jerius smirked. Traditionally, the only guards Ladism was allowed were female. In ages past, there had been a coup by the priests of the temple. They had attempted to wrest control of Ladis from the imperial family. An uneasy peace was made after a stalemate was decided between the two sides.
The temple and the church of Ladis would only ever train and employ female guards. Actually, if Jerius remembered correctly, the wording of the provision said that “the church would direct no man to take up arms for Ladism” or something along those lines.
A loophole.
The royal family, on the other hand, had agreed to allow the church an official role in governing the country. A High Priest would rule alongside the king and his family. Both, however, would be subject to a body of both priests and nobles called “The Voice” who were supposed to represent the people of Ladis.
No loophole had been found by the royal family to exploit the church, however. Slowly, the church had gained more and more power over the royals. Ladis priests held great power throughout Ladis, nearly as much as the nine princes. Prophets, those in service to their priests, were influential and respected.
Becoming a Prophet was no small feat. As a young boy, Jerius had abandoned his parents to go and study the gods under the tutelage of the Priest in Arranus at the time. He was an older man then and was now ancient by human reckoning. He had just crossed into his ninetieth year when Jerius had left to explore the newly acquired islands.
The priest’s old age was something Jerius planned to use to his advantage one day.
Hopefully soon.
Years of study and tutelage had taught Jerius many lessons about the gods, their creation of the world they now lived in, and how the world around them worked. But he had also learned many other things.
Like how weak the royal family had really become. How much they depended on the temple and on Ladism. And how close it had almost come to being unraveled during the Rebellious wars before he was born.
A mosquito the size of his thumb buzzed in front of his face and Jerius swatted at it. The bug didn’t even seem to care. Jerius restrained the urge he felt to take out his whip and deal the insect a fatal blow. Such a move would be silly. Unnecessary. What Jerius needed to focus on now was Farnus.
And, unfortunately, that meant avoiding the droppings from the foul beast he rode on.
Side stepping the inevitable, Jerius raised his voice over the crashing they made through the jungle. Apparently, the prince wasn’t concerned about stealth.
“Your Grace,” Jerius began, gritting his teeth and remembering to defer to the prince. “Where do you think the traitorous general and his companions have fled to?”
The only reply he received was the continuous marching of their company through the jungle foliage. Jerius withheld his temper from boiling over. He hated being treated like a subordinate, though he knew full well that was what he was.
At the present time.
Suddenly, Farnus pulled the reins back on his horse and let out a soft “Woah.”
Jerius felt it, too.
Though the jungle was bright moments ago, the air had become colder and the light had faded. Jerius felt a chill run up the sleeve of his robe and then down his back. He would have been grateful for it an hour ago. Now it made him shrink back and look around him.
The jungle was quiet.
And that was never a good sign.
“Speak truth and I will listen,” Farnus called out in a loud, commanding voice. The sudden noise startled Jerius. He tried to mask his jumpiness with a flick towards the bug that was pestering him earlier. It wasn’t there, but perhaps the guards wouldn’t know that.
He didn’t have to worry.
The voice that came next made everyone jump. It sounded as if it came from every direction, even though it was a whisper. Jerius turned in several directions in order to see who, or what, was speaking, but he saw nothing. Only the dim light of the jungle and the fading canopy above.
“He walks under the earth, though whether he will rise again is unseen to me.”
Farnus nodded at this.
“Where should we pursue him?”
“Where the trees grow thin and the grasslands begin. There you will find the Veiled Ones.”
“Veiled Ones?” Farnus shot back. “No, I mean Holve! The man whom I inquired about.”
“Where the trees grow thin,” the voice repeated. “There you will find the Veiled Ones.”
Farnus cursed low under his breath. As the words escaped his lips, the light returned to the area of the jungle they were walking in. The call of birds and buzz of insects came back in full. Jerius took a moment to comprehend just how quiet the trees had become for this phenomenon.
“Gods save us,” Luca muttered under her breath.
Jerius agreed.
“Your Grace,” he said to the back of Farnus’ head. The prince was still searching around the jungle trees, as if looking for the source of the voice as Jerius had. “What manner was that darkness just now?”
Farnus snorted and turned around in his saddle.
“We will head north,” he said, ignoring Jerius’ question. “To the edge of the jungle and close to the capital. Holve will appear to us there.”
“Prince Farnus,” Jerius said flatly. “What just happened had the appearance of witchcraft and magic. I need your assurance that it indeed was not.”
In an instant, Farnus was off of his horse and in Jerius’ face. The prince may be old, but he was still strong, tall, and intimidating.
“Are you accusing me, Prince Farnus, eldest of the Princes and rightful heir to the throne of Ladis, of being a heretic and a sorcerer?”
Spit flew into Jerius’ cheeks as he watched his superior turning redder and redder. He had struck a chord in the prince. That was all he needed to know for now.
“Of course not, Your Grace,” Jerius said, taking a step back and bowing low. He must look deferential. “I am merely astounded by your ability to communicate with the gods. I forgot my place.”
Farnus stood there for a moment more. Jerius could hear the guards behind him rattling the swords in their sheaths, as if to remind the prince that they were there and capable of using them. Jerius knew the risk of the path he was taking.
He was also very much aware of the possible rewards.
Farnus straightened up and leapt back onto his horse.
“We head north,” he repeated, saying nothing more of the strange event that just happened.
He made a short noise for his horse and clicked his heels. The steed plodded forward, obediently.
Jerius, his mind now on many more things than the rear of the blasted horse, tried to withhold a smirk on his face. This trip may not end up being a total waste after all.
17: Magic’s D
emise
The fire crackled lazily as the companions all sat in the mouth of the cave. They had managed to put together a couple of dry sticks they had collected and, using Gorplin’s ax and some very resilient rocks, gotten a spark to light a fire.
Ealrin was trying to place his thoughts while looking into the embers. Blume was still asleep. For how much longer he didn’t know. Serinde had gone out to try to find them food to eat using Holve‘s instructions. The old man had been the first to go out and explore the area. There weren’t any lizards, nor signs of any temple patrols. The jungle was still quite thick and most didn’t go out into it unless they had great need or were unable to join the civilized society that grouped together in their safe walls. If they were going to run into any trouble, it would most likely be from roaming bandits or other beasts of the wild.
A small stream lay outside the mouth of the cave, only footsteps away. They could hear it trickling, competing with the sound of the crackling flames. They would have enough water and potentially food to recover their strength and replenish their stocks.
More like make some stocks, Ealrin thought.
They hadn’t planned on being gone from Three Way for more than an afternoon. Now there was no Three Way. Ealrin felt terrible for the people there. Had Martta made it out alive? What about the children? The traders and shop owners? Ealrin even felt bad for the intimidating priest woman they had met. He thought of them as he stared into the fire.
Silverwolf sat cross-legged as she sharpened her blade. The rhythmic grinding noise of metal on metal added to the noises that already echoed through the cave. Ealrin looked back over his shoulder, towards the direction of the lake. They had said they would be able to hear the creatures sneaking up to the cave door. If they really wanted to attack, they could. But Ealrin felt confident that the eels wouldn’t come this far up and into the light. Hopefully they just stayed down there.
Jurrin was the first one to break the silence.
