“A horrid pain shot through me. When I opened my eyes I was in the abyss, standing before my father. I remember seeing furious anger inside his gaze. Not at me. And then he vanished. Immediately. I looked around, trying to find him, but I was still in the abyss. It was the only time I had ever known fear.”
“How did you get out?” Melichi asked.
Tyrann spoke in a soft monotone. “I’m not entirely certain. I was there one second and snatched back to the garden the next. My father’s hands were on my chest and all bloody. I lifted my head just enough to see a pair of rose shears stabbed through my chest. He chanted and slowly pulled out the blades. I screamed. The pain was unbearable. But his hands warmed over the wound. He kept chanting or praying, calling upon his darkness, until the wound was no more.”
“He healed you?”
“He has such power.”
“And your sister?” Melichi asked.
“She was balled up against a rock wall, sobbing. A large handprint glowed on her face. The crude outlines of his signet rings dented into her flesh. Apparently he had backhanded her quite severely.”
“She killed you out of jealousy?”
“I suppose. At the time, I wanted to ask her why she had done it, but my father sent her away for a very long time.”
“Where?”
“I’m not certain. During her absence my father and I bonded even more. He taught me about the powers I can draw upon from the abyss and through chaotic magic. My death and him resurrecting me only made me stronger.”
Priest Melichi gave an even smile. “But now, you and Xaeeria are closer, are you not?”
“In words and gestures, but in my heart, my soul, I can never ever fully trust her. That’s why I have no empathy to whatever befalls her or her children. The more she suffers . . . the more pleasure I feel inside. The fact that she begs for my assistance gives me the satisfaction of knowing I’m far greater and more powerful than she will ever be.”
“And your mother, does she favor you over Xaeeria?”
“Our mothers are not the same. Mine is a dark human sorcerer. Xaeeria’s is a demon like our father.”
“I see. And how did your mother react?” Melichi asked.
“I have not ever seen her.”
“Ever?”
“Not to my memory. She birthed me and gave me to my father in return for her dark sorcerous powers. It was the power she had prayed for, and what my father granted her in return for a son. This is why I appear human on the surface, and possibly why my sister hated me. She probably still does.”
Another bat-winged creature appeared at the balcony. He hovered before Tyrann and gasped from exhaustion. “There is a problem south of Corwin’s Pass.”
Tyrann regarded his sentry with keen interest. He hissed, “What?”
“Seven demon-hunters are lying in wait. Shae’zar is one of them.”
“Interesting,” Tyrann said. “Then it’s time I send out several Goatmen and demons to deal with them.”
Melichi frowned. “You’ll send Goatmen and demons to fight the demon-hunters, but nothing against the Vykings?”
“Again, that’s not my war and none of my concern. Shae’zar, on the other hand—she and I have a grudge that goes back for some time. I have nearly killed her several times after she thought she had killed me.”
“I remember her attack. How did she ever get inside this temple?”
Tyrann sighed. “She’s immune to most poisons, so the air isn’t toxic to her, which is why I must send out demons and beastmen before she decides to enter the Black Chasm.”
“She’s incredibly brave to return.”
Tyrann shook his head and then he smiled. “She’s naïve and has a death wish. One that I won’t hesitate to fulfill for her.”
“And what about the armies that killed your tendril beast? Will you not seek vengeance toward them?”
“No.”
Melichi looked perplexed. “I’m surprised.”
Tyrann chuckled. “Why is that?”
“You, of all rulers, are allowing these troops to pass the outskirts of your kingdom unharmed after killing one of your pets . . . that seems so unlike you.”
Tyrann’s chuckled matured into deep rolling laughter. “My dear priest, my creature attacked them, and I highly doubt that they’re unscathed. Those tendril beasts are often uncontrollable whenever they get the scent of living blood bags.”
“But surely you’d like to make examples out of them for . . .”
Tyrann raised his hand toward the priest and shook his head. “Melichi, should those troops willingly step into my vale, they will die immediately. But, as it is, if their mission is to head north and kill those Vykings, I have no reason to interfere.”
“And why not?”
“Why dirty my hands doing something they can do for me? War begets war and death. Dead soldiers mean I have less to worry about later once my kingdom’s power is at its greatest. Let the paupers do their bidding against one another. It matters not to me if they totally annihilate one another. I build numbers while they decrease theirs. It’s a tradeoff where I lose nothing.”
The priest rubbed his palms together. “And here I always thought you wished to delve into any battle.”
Tyrann laughed. “I favor war, just like my father always has. War kills. It divides and causes distrust. Once allies are turned against one another and become mortal enemies, the hostility overshadows all of Aetheaon. Losing one tendril beast is minor. Besides, they have seen the beast. No doubt seeing its size has encouraged one thing with them.”
“And what is that?”
“They will increase their pace swiftly through the barren trail,” Tyrann said with a mischievous grin. “And they will tell others of the horrifying thing that they saw and killed. Exaggeration will ensue, which makes it even less likely for any forces to invade the chasm. Keeping them second-guessing grants me more time to increase my legions. Fear does great wonders.”
***
Lady Dawn rode at the front of the army. Like she had told Sarey, she was going to lead the march upon Hoffnung to dethrone Waxxon. Caen and Corwin rode to each side of her. Odlon rode further behind, ahead of the Elven troops.
Boldair had lost close to fifty percent of the hired mercenaries. The massive tendrils had killed several dozen of them, and six or more had been jerked into the Black Chasm by strange ghostly creatures. Seeing the oddities that lurked within the chasm wasn’t what these Oculoth warriors had signed on for. Those that remained still wanted to receive their gold, but they were also loyal in making certain Dawn was crowned queen.
Hearing them chant in her favor stirred emotions deep inside her. She didn’t have the proper words to express her gratitude, but she was determined not to fail. Excitement flowed through her, knowing her mission to make Waxxon pay for his crimes was drawing near.
Riding up the drab pathway brought some apprehension. At any moment, creatures might emerge from the chasm and attack. She tried to ride in the center of the path because at least they would have a better chance to thwart sudden encounters whenever they arose.
The rocky path widened. Remnants of homesteads stood in near rotted form. Their roofs caved inward. Walls were missing. Partial skeletons lay inside doorways with tattered clothes. One small skeleton’s arms hugged a discolored doll.
Near a crude rock wall, spindly dead black trees oozed sap. Dried nettles, foxglove, and grasses stood in brittle clumps in what once was a garden plot. Rusted hoes and axes were propped against the rock wall. Plumes of smoke spilled upward from tiny holes and crevices.
Near a large tree in the center of this former community were thick broken tombstones. More skeletons littered the ground than what were probably buried in the cemetery.
The only life in this place, if it could be called that, was the undead sprites gliding upon the breeze through leafless trees and shrubs. Crows cawed, but in the distance near the perimeter of the Black Chasm. They seemed less inclined to be in thi
s abandoned settlement than in the forests.
“What happened here?” Lady Dawn asked, stopping in the center of the buildings.
Caen shook his head. “It’s hard to say. The divide is the groove that neither side dominates. Nothing can settle here and expect to live.”
“Why?”
“Some believe it’s because of Tyrann, after the fall of the City of Mortel,” Lehrling said. “These settlements were probably the poorer people of his kingdom.”
“But it makes no sense why they should die,” Dawn said. “The poisonous mists aren’t here.”
“That’s true,” Corwin said, “but you feel the energies fighting one another?”
“The chasm and the Fae?” she asked.
“Yes. Although this is simply my speculation, I believe anyone that is constantly caught in between would be driven insane. Perhaps that’s what happened with these poor folks? They lost their minds and killed one another. It’s only a theory though.”
“A damned good one, too,” Drucis said solemnly. His gaze passed along the ruin and settled upon the dozen or so rotted, busted ale barrels. “Seems great losses came here. A shame that nothing remains.”
“Perhaps it is wisest if we hurry our way out of this divide,” Yarrow said.
“I’m with you on dat,” Boldair said.
Dawn nodded. “Agreed. Let’s make a rapid march northward before the sun sets upon us here. Probably worse things emerge once darkness takes hold.”
“Wisely spoken,” Lehrling said.
Chapter Seventy-five
Zauber still had not awakened, even after a night of sleep, and now it was midday.
The dwarves continued fighting against the undead Orcs and Dredgemen and were getting wearier. Dwiskter heaved his heavy ax and smashed the skull of an approaching Orc. It dropped hard upon the icy snow and didn’t move again.
“At least they’re not reviving,” he said, glancing toward King Staggnuns.
“Perhaps not,” Staggnuns replied. He pointed toward the ridgeline. “But there’s no shortage of them.”
Several hundred Orcs lined the frozen slopes. Zauber might not have been able to destroy them, but collapsing the ridge had actually been a great benefit. It prevented them from rushing in mass numbers because the fallen rock and ice had formed a narrow grooved path that limited their access. Because Orcs were big and blocky, even their skeletons alone, they had to march in a singular line to get through the narrowed gap between the ridges.
“Aye. I see them,” Dwiskter said. “I’ve learned that ignoring them doesn’t make them go away.”
“Come,” Staggnuns said. “Let’s retreat behind the mantlets so that we can rest and eat. The dam will never break, so they will come in a slow trickle.”
Dwiskter rested his ax on his shoulder and made his way to the closest mantlet. After tossing his ax over, two dwarves from the other side helped pull him and King Staggnuns over the rolling barricade.
Dwiskter peered into the open tent where Zauber lay. He glanced at the medic. “Any luck yet?”
“Waking him?” the medic replied.
“Aye.”
“None. I don’t see any physical damage, so he’s probably exhausted.”
Dwiskter nodded. “Maybe he’ll wake soon.”
“We can hope, but it’s far unlikely. Using lots of magic comes with a heavy toll.”
***
“Zauber?” a voice said faintly.
Zauber looked, trying to locate the one speaking. In his dream he drifted.
“Ya need help?” she asked.
“Who is this?” he asked.
“Haigla.”
“The witch? You venture into my dreams?”
“You saved my life in Woodcrest. I’m here to return the favor.”
“And how is that? Mors has escaped.”
The witch laughed. “He has, for now. But his lingering magic is still strong. If you don’t awaken and help these dwarves, the undead Orcs will kill them and yourself. So, awaken!”
“And do what, dear witch? I’m exhausted. I used some of my most powerful spells against him and failed.”
“Your failure will be in remaining asleep.”
“Even if I awaken, I don’t have the energy and stamina to cast a single spell. My mind and concentration are too weak. I doubt I could word an effective incantation.”
“Stubborn ol’ fool. Allow me to channel my energy and magic through you. I can add my strength to yours. Together we can end the undead armies that are approaching your vicinity.”
Zauber felt too light. He drifted in peaceful slumber and was at ease. The numb relaxation felt good. He didn’t want to awaken.
“You there, old man?” she asked.
“Old man? Dear witch, there’s not a single gray hair on me.”
“If you plan to live long enough to have any, you best awake.”
“And let you use me as a channeling device?”
“You don’t trust me?”
Zauber was hesitant to reply. Everyone in Woodcrest thought she was loony, and well, she had done little to prove otherwise.
“Well?” she asked.
“I’m thinking.”
“Thinking? You know I have great power.”
“Yes, dear witch, I don’t question that.”
“Then what?”
“What spell do you intend to use?”
Haigla laughed softly. “We’re dealing with the undead. I can use a fire spell.”
“The dwarves tried fire. It didn’t harm them.”
“Do they have magical fire? Are they capable of using magic? They’re dwarves. They have no wizards or mages. No sorcerers of any sort. You want to live? I’m the only hope you currently have.”
“I suppose there’s a reason nag rhymes with hag.”
“What?”
“Oh, sorry. For a moment, I had forgotten you’re in my mind, eavesdropping.”
“I can leave, Zauber, but I really don’t want to. I came because you saved my life when you never had to. You owed me nothing at all. I . . . wish to repay your kindness. Nothing more.”
“Very well, dear lady. I open myself up to you.”
Zauber opened his eyes and blinked several times. He tilted his head upward to look around and the dwarf medic rushed to him.
“Are ye okay?” the medic asked.
The wizard shook his head, trying to clear his vision. “I’m fine. Please help me to my feet.”
“Oh, you’re in no shape—”
“Just do it!” the voice wasn’t his. Zauber sensed her presence inside him. An odd sensation, he thought.
The dwarf looped his arm around Zauber’s elbow and helped him rise.
Zauber was drained. Moving one foot seemed equal to lifting a saddle tied to his boot. After dragging his feet several steps, his strength started to return. Moving was less strenuous.
“Guide me to the battlefront,” Zauber said.
“Yes, wizard,” the medic replied.
***
The barren path filled with smoke and haze. Nothing else had attacked from the Black Chasm, for which Dawn was immensely thankful. They happened upon a second cave that opened from the ground. At the angle the path went downward, they concluded that the cave accessed the Black Chasm.
Both cave mouths held skeletons, rusted armor, and petrified corpses.
“How long is the barrier path?” Dawn finally asked. “Almost seems like we’ve traveled for days.”
Odlon sighed. “That’s only because we don’t have any familiar landmarks to judge our travel distance. We cannot see through the veils on either side. The smoke along the trail isn’t helping matters either.”
“But we should be getting close to Corwin’s Pass,” Lehrling said. He glanced toward Corwin. “Shouldn’t we?”
Corwin grinned. “Don’t assume since the pass has my first name that I had anything to do with that. I’m as lost on the time factor as the rest of you.”
“The path isn’t named
after you?” Dawn asked.
He shook his head. “Purely coincidental.”
Dawn glanced into the cave opening. “Who’d even attempt to enter there?”
“Ah, now dear Lady,” Boldair said. “Many a treasure hunter has found his demise by being a greedy fool.”
“So you would attempt it?” Drucis asked.
“Hey, now, watch your mouth.”
Drucis laughed heartily. “There aren’t many dwarves who haven’t heard of your boasts in one of the taverns.”
“Maybe I embellish the tales somewhat, but few be untrue.”
“Oh now, brother, you’re telling me that the dragon lairs you found are true then?” Drucis asked.
Angry, Boldair opened his mouth but Viorka hissed with what sounded like a pathetic attempt to growl. He glanced toward her, and she frowned, crossing her arms. Boldair nodded at her. “Let’s keep our attentions on the path ahead and get away from this wasteland.”
“I agree,” Odlon said. “You two can drink and argue later.”
“Aye,” Boldair said, grinning. “Arguing without a drink is useless anyways.”
“Ye know it!” Drucis said.
Dawn looked back over her shoulder. The hundred elves and seventy or so human mercenaries were all standing and waiting for her command. She pointed her sword to the northward path that divided the abandoned settlement. “Onward!”
The moment her horse started forward, the soldiers behind her marched. She thought it odd to hear their unified footsteps. They were willing to follow at her command. Although she knew leaders gave orders, she never really considered how powerful being a ruler could be. She issued an order, and the people followed without question or argument. She could see how people might become inflated by being in such a position, but she felt humbled. These who were willing to fight on her behalf weren’t even citizens of Hoffnung. They were hired.
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