The door opened outwards and was around four feet tall. From where she hid, Cerana could not see how wide the doorway was, but the way it opened suggested it was relatively narrow. The door was thick, however: she guessed about a foot of sheer rock carved into the side of the mountain. The doorway eventually came to a stop, and she shuffled a little further away, wary of anything that might emerge from the concealed entrance.
A few moments later, a small, dark figure emerged from the shadows, nimble and deft in its movements. It looked like a tiny person, but Cerana could not fully tell as it was draped in a dark cape and hood. The figure stopped by the open door and looked left then right before slinking around the other side of the opening and out of sight.
Cerana’s heart was thundering, and she fought with herself as to what she should do next. She quickly decided she had two options – follow the strange figure or nip inside the open doorway. Whichever she chose was fraught with danger – she was unarmed and unprepared, not to mention terrified. But she needed to make a decision quickly.
Without the luxury of time, she opted to follow the small person, and made to move from her spot. Yet something in her mind forced her to stop. Esteri could be through that door, afraid and alone. I should try to find her, help her. But no, would it be better to try to find out a little more first? See what I am up against? I know where this entrance is now, I can find it again when I am a little more prepared.
She made up her mind to follow the small shape, springing from where she hid and traversing the side of the mountain towards the door. Seconds before she reached the opening, it silently yet quickly closed. It made not a sound as the rock returned to normal, and not a sign of it was visible. It was as if it had never happened. Yet it had - she had seen it.
Her attention was caught by the small shape scurrying along the open ground towards the next large rock formation. Her decision abruptly made for her, Cerana crouched down as she gave chase, hoping her target would not look back as she made her way out of cover. Luckily, it did not, and it sped off between two giant rocks at a speed she did not think possible for such a small being.
Cerana was conscious not to give away her pursuit, but had to all but run to keep up with her smaller target. It followed a pathway that wound through the mountains, clearly knowing exactly where it was going. Cerana wondered how she would ever find her way back to where Coviche waited, but she would worry about that later.
Farther they ran, past enormous rocks and moonlit mountains. So swiftly she found herself travelling that at one point, she almost lost her footing and fell, but just managed to stay upright and continue her chase. Thankfully, her scrabbling did not alert the deft figure hurtling away in front of her.
They were approaching the northern edge of the mountain range, and Cerana could see further darkness marking the entrance to a forest as the rocks were left behind. This worried her as the small being sped towards the cover of the trees: she would never be able to find it once it disappeared into the undergrowth. Yet still she followed, until the hooded creature shot between the first trees of the dense forest and out of her sight.
Shortly afterwards, Cerana burst into the forest, and sure enough, her target was nowhere to be seen. She stopped and looked around as much she could, breathing hard from the exertion of her chase. All she could see from all angles were trees, bushes and fallen logs, and darkness further on. Beads of sweat fell from her forehead, and she wiped the moisture with the back of her hand, clueless as to what she should do next. All was silent in the forest, not even the sound of birds or beasts.
The little figure could be anywhere. It could have taken any direction. Cerana grimaced and sighed deeply as her target was lost, and the despondency of failure washed through her. It was hopeless; she would never find the strange being in these dense woods.
Disheartened, she put her hands on her hips and turned to leave the forest to return to Coviche.
Just a few steps she had taken when she gasped with sudden shock as she was grabbed roughly from behind, strong arms wrapping around her upper body. She had no time to scream as a firm hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her.
Cerana was powerless as her dominant assailant held her in a vice-like grip, dragging her from the clearing in which she stood, deep into the undergrowth of the forest.
CHAPTER 42 – Testing Times
It seemed like an eternity since she last saw the light of day.
Each time those green brutes had come for her to take her away and perform their tests, she saw nothing more than a long corridor of stone. Each time, they dragged her into what she now referred to as the testing room.
Several times now Esteri had been taken, against her will. The goblins would march her to that horrid room where they strapped her down to a bench, flat on her back, and forced her mouth wide open with a small metal device. There she was left, terrified and unable to move, until the big one came in and took his samples. This goblin was much bigger than the others – almost her own height – yet still had the same evil features and a snarling mouth full of sharp, yellow teeth. He had small orange eyes that glared at Esteri with a malice the likes of which she had never seen. He gave no regard to her wellbeing as he went about his work.
She wore just a simple linen dress which they had given to her. She assumed they kept her like this so it was easier for them to examine the effects the disease was having on her body, whilst collecting samples from various parts of her. Esteri had noticed that the big goblin paid particular attention to the red rash that had spread from her back to her legs and arms. Using a small blade, he would scrape some of the affected skin from her, which surprisingly did not hurt at all. It was always the first thing he looked at and took samples from.
He would then examine her wide-open mouth, using another long, sharp tool to extract saliva samples from her tongue and cheeks. Next was her blood: he would prick her with a needle on her lower arms and legs before teasing out a few drops of blood into small tubes. Then it would be over, and the little horrors would release her and take her back to her cell. It was in her prison she now sat, hugging her knees close to her chest and weeping softly on the cold, stone floor.
As if the horrors of the testing room were not enough, her cell was like something straight from a nightmare, too. It was a small, windowless room with thick stone slabs all around her. An iron-bound door was the only way in or out, and could not be opened from the inside. The cell’s only light source was a torch held in a metal sconce on the wall above the door, too high for her to reach. She prayed it would never go out, as being kept prisoner in her awful cell would be unbearable in pitch darkness.
In the back corner of the cell, a skeleton sat with its bony arms aloft, still manacled to steel cuffs suspended above it and secured to the wall. Its eyeless sockets seemed to follow Esteri wherever she moved. Despite screaming until she was hoarse the first time she saw it, she had become strangely accustomed to it being there now, although she would rather it not be there at all.
An empty iron brazier sat in the opposite corner to the unfortunate former inmate, which housed the most enormous cobwebs that Esteri had ever seen. The thick, silvery material almost totally encased the brazier, and huge but beautifully patterned webs hung down from the walls above it to the metal edges. Esteri did not want to think about the creature that had made its home here, and although she had seen no evidence of its existence, she was far more wary of the brazier than she was of the hideous skeleton.
But by far, the worst part of the cell was the dried blood. It painted the walls and the back of the thick wooden door, leaving Esteri to imagine with horror the atrocities that had occurred in here with previous occupants. Smears and patches of dark blood clung to the stone walls as if left there as a warning, or just simply to instil terror into the hearts of future prisoners.
It was working, she thought to herself as she hugged her knees closer.
Since she had been their prisoner, none of the snarling creatures had t
old her why she was being held here. She knew it must be because of the disease she carried, but she was certain they were not conducting experiments on her for her own good. Strangely, though, she felt better in herself whilst she was held captive here than she had done since first contracting the ephylaxon. Esteri figured this could be something to do with all the other horrors she endured whilst locked up in this cell. There was certainly enough here to make any perfectly healthy person sick.
Esteri thought of Jana and Cerana whilst she sat, which made more tears flow. She wondered if Cerana had managed to find their sibling and bring her back home safe, only then to realise that she had been taken herself. She tried to think about being rescued: of Cerana suddenly bursting through the huge door and taking her back home so they could be a family once more. But Cerana didn’t know she was here. Esteri didn’t even know where she was, as she had been brought here unconscious and had awoken in this awful prison.
What have I done to deserve this? She thought. The whites of her eyes were red from her tears, yet they bulged like saucers, reflecting the flickering orange light from the torch above. It was not that long since we were a happy family, three sisters with uncomplicated lives. But now, we are all separated – likely scattered across Evorene, searching for one another, wondering where the others had gone. Where are you now, Cerana? Jana, I pray you are still alive and well. I am thinking of you both. I long to see you again.
Esteri held her breath as she heard the key being placed in the lock of her cell door.
They are here for me again.
She shuffled to the side of the prison, hugging herself as hard as she could, burying her head between her knees and trying to hide from the fear.
But it was no use.
The big old door creaked open, and the terrible little beasts entered, sneering and spitting as they came for her.
CHAPTER 43 – The Tide Turns
The strong hand remained firmly clamped over Cerana’s mouth as she was roughly bundled to the ground behind a boulder. Her wide eyes strained to get a view of her attacker as she was turned over onto her back, but instead of looking onto the eyes of a murderer or robber as she feared, she saw the stunning face of Coviche kneeling over her.
“Shhh!” the dragon-woman whispered, holding her index finger up to her pursed lips to signify silence. Cerana nodded, and Coviche released her hand from her mouth. Coviche pointed over Cerana’s right shoulder and whispered, “Over there, in the clearing between the two large trees, look.”
Cerana turned and scoured the area where Coviche referred to, but all she could see was dark tree trunks and foliage. Turning back to her, Cerana shook her head in puzzlement.
“Look closer.”
Cerana squinted into the gloom. At first, she still saw only blackness, until a hint of movement caught her eye. Concentrating hard, she eventually made out a small dark shape occasionally peering out from behind one of the large trunks. Thinking it must be the figure she had followed, she excitedly turned back to Coviche. As if reading her thoughts, the large woman nodded and leant her head to Cerana’s ear. “I’m sorry for scaring you,” she softly said. “I thought you were going to give away your position.”
“How long were you following me?” Cerana asked.
“Since you started to follow the goblin.”
“Goblin?!” Cerana was shocked at the revelation.
“Yes, that’s what it is. A goblin - nasty little creatures they are. Only interested in gold and whatever they can get to benefit themselves.”
Cerana turned back to where the goblin hid behind the tree. “What is it doing?” she asked.
“Waiting,” Coviche replied. “I am anxious to find out for whom.” They did not have to wait long, as a larger figure approached the goblin. “Blackwood,” hissed Coviche. “I can feel it. I grow weaker already,” she grimaced, rubbing her temples.
Cerana remembered what Coviche had said about Civilus Blackwood being protected by the mage. Now she understood why the dragon-woman could not engage her target directly, because of the power of the dragonstone. Her beautiful face contorted in pain, and she held her hand to her temples, clearly in distress.
“I can go no further, Cerana Proudstone,” she said. “But we must discover what they are speaking of.”
Even from a distance - which was no more than thirty feet - whatever protection Blackwood had against the dragon was undoubtedly effective.
“What would you have me do?” Cerana asked.
“Get closer, but make sure you are not discovered. Find out what they are saying.”
Cerana nodded and took yet another long breath. She seemed to be doing that a lot recently. She shimmied around the large rock, using it as cover between her and the two meeting attendants. She crept around in an arc towards the small clearing, making sure she could not be seen on her approach to the larger trees. Peering around the last large tree between them, she dared go no further than the next smaller tree and prayed it would be close enough to hear.
Darting out, she scurried to her next point of cover. But as she ran, she tripped on an upturned root and was sent sprawling across the ground. She quickly recovered and crouched behind the small tree, cursing her clumsiness as they must surely have heard the commotion. Sure enough, she soon heard the sounds of feet scuffling across the woodland terrain. Whispers could be heard but not loud enough for her to make out. Cerana sat as still as she could, daring not to move. She listened intently but heard nothing. Her hand instinctively reached for her dagger at her thigh, but she knew it would not be there: it had been taken from her when she was arrested. She cursed silently.
“What you doin’ ‘ere?” the snarling voice by her ear made her recoil and gasp in surprise. Instinctively she turned to the voice and was met with the grimace of the hooded goblin she had tracked from the mountain. She stumbled back and rose from her crouch, towering over the small creature who was in no way intimidated by his larger foe. He grinned at her, showing a full set of sharp yellow teeth as he pulled two daggers from his belt. One of the blades was curved and appeared to glow slightly orange, and this one he pointed at her menacingly.
“Give us all yer gold,” he hissed, slowly approaching her.
Cerana looked around for the man Coviche thought was Civilus Blackwood, but he was nowhere to be seen. The goblin was still hooded and cloaked, but Cerana could see that we wore little else but a loincloth and belt, and a ragged shirt. He wore nothing on his thin green legs and wore no shoes.
The goblin advanced, daggers pointed at her. Cerana backed away, almost tripping again on a low obstacle.
“What you want?” he squeaked, spittle flying from his mouth.
“Nothing, leave me alone,” she managed to say. “Why are you here?”
“He’s with me.” The deep, human voice came from behind her.
She turned to its source, giving the goblin his chance and he lunged low at her with his shoulder, barging into the back of her left knee and sending her crashing to the ground. Quick as a flash, the goblin was on top of her, glaring down with one dagger at her throat and the other pointed at her face. She sank back into the ground, defeated.
“My little friend asked what you were doing here,” the calm voice said, again from behind her. From Cerana’s prone position, flat on her back on the ground, she saw the man approach her and stand over her, his feet almost touching the top of her head. He leant over her, and she saw a thin-faced, long-nosed ageing man with grey receding hair swept back over his forehead. “Who are you?” he asked calmly.
Cerana remained silent.
“Must we beat an answer out of you?” he asked. “Or cut you?”
The goblin slowly ran the edge of the blade across her throat, pressing it a little harder into her and drawing blood.
“I will ask once more. Who are you, and what are you doing here?” there was more intent in the man’s voice this time, yet Cerana remained silent. Her heart pounded, and she breathed heavily, not knowing what to do
for the best or how to react.
“Have it your way,” he said, almost cheerfully. “Give her a few scars, see if we can make her talk.”
The goblin grinned, a hideous sight right above her as he pressed the dagger harder still to her throat, the other blade inching slowly towards her face. He let out an evil rasping sound, as if delighted by his new orders.
“Wait!” she finally cried, realising she needed to do something to stop this sadistic little creature from carving her face open.
The goblin looked dismayed, and his shoulders sagged, relaxing the blade at her throat slightly. Cerana took her chance. She clenched her fist and smashed the goblin as hard as she could in his throat. He instantly dropped the daggers and held both hands to his gullet, his mouth wide open, little eyes bulging with pain and sudden fear. He made hideous choking sounds as he writhed around on the ground in agony, and Cerana wasted no time in rising and grabbing the nearest dagger before turning to her other assailant.
The man’s shocked look gave Cerana more confidence, and he began to back away from her, hands held up in front of him. She approached him with the dagger and used her free hand to rub her throat, finding a small amount of blood as she inspected her fingers.
“Don’t hurt me!” the tall, thin man pleaded. “I’m just a frail old man!”
“You ordered that thing to cut me,” she growled, looking back to see the pitiful creature convulsing on the ground, hands clasped to his throat and gasping for breath. “So you tell me, who the hell are you?” she demanded.
The man stumbled and fell on his rear. He held shaking hands up to her. “Please,” he begged.
Cerana ignored him and swatted his arm away, the dagger pointed threateningly at him as she patted at the long cloak against his body, searching for weapons. She felt something hard in a side pocket, reached in and removed a cold, stone-like object that was surprisingly light of weight. It was a long, dark object that resembled a crystal yet was as black as jet.
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