The Dungeons of Arcadia

by Dan Allen

  Ruby looked over the edge pensively but smiled when Gork offered his arm. The princess wrapped her arms around his neck as he put his arm around her narrow waist and drew her tight against him. She was far thinner than a stout dwarvish woman. Gork quickly decided he rather enjoyed having the princess holding him tightly but kept the thought to himself as he took the vine and leaned back over the overhanging edge of the cavern. He loosened his grip and began to slide down the vine, instantly grateful the Druid magician had managed to grow it without any thorns. Terras’s skill with growing things seemed to have no end. Although he could work on making them less ticklish, Gork reminded himself.

  “Goodness, be careful,” Ruby said anxiously. Gork tightened his grip on the princess.

  Twenty-five feet down, Gork’s feet finally reached the bottom. Ruby’s hands slid slowly from his neck. She ran her fingers along his newly trimmed beard. “That wasn’t at all bad, Hearthsworn warrior.”

  No sooner had she finished the words than the vine ripped free of the soil above and came tumbling down onto Gork’s head.

  “Great, now we’re stuck underground again,” Nyan-Nyan said from where she stood on the wreckage of a great clay statue of a tonnerian. Its broken tail lay in several pieces. The head was severed from the fallen body, and even its triangular, catlike ears lay scattered on the smooth floor of the cavern.

  Dripping water sounded in the distance beyond the circle of light cast by the low sun against the wall.

  “The statue has got to be a tonnerian,” Terras said. He checked his wrist and looked around. “So if this is the Desert Drop Oasis . . . where are the tonnerians?”

  The question was answered as flickering light from dozens of torches appeared, showing the crevasse to be not a hole, but a very large underground cavern which quickly filled with tonnerians of sandy brown fur, each with stabbing blades protruding from small shields strapped to their outer forearms.

  “Intruders!” roared one of the tonnerians with a voice like a lion. He was far larger than Nyan-Nyan, larger even than Gork, and at least as tall as the half-elf. His shoulders were broad like an orc and his paws enormous. A lion’s mane covered his neck and shoulders, adding to his imposing size.

  They were all of similar build.

  Nyan-Nyan bounded behind Gork.

  Rage showing in his unnervingly human eyes, the tonnerian warrior leader pointed his bladed arm at Gork. “They have defiled the statue of our founder. Slay them!”

  Chapter 13: Oasis

  “Did you stop your fall with the gauntlets?” Gork said to Nyan-Nyan out of the side of his mouth. He couldn’t imagine a worse way to find the Desert Drop Oasis than to destroy the statue of their founder. The tonnerians looked ready to kill.

  “What else was I supposed to do—break a leg?”

  “Preferably,” Terras mumbled under his breath. He flexed his hands. The green vine on his wrist pulsed with anxious energy. “Now what?”

  Tonnerians surged forward with savage cries, answering any doubt of their rumored ferocity.

  Gork reached for his long ax, but Ruby put her arm across his chest. “I’ll handle this.” The princess stepped forward and lifted the necklace with the small vial containing her tears. Blinding blue light threw back the shadows.

  “Warriors of Tonneria,” she said with a clear and calm voice. “The Goddess shines her favor upon your bravery.”

  Mesmerized, the tonnerians halted.

  “But apparently not on our founder!” cried the chief warrior. “What manner of ill have you brought upon us?”

  “I am the Princess Ruby of Crystalia Castle,” she declared. “These are my fellows. We come as allies against the darkness.”

  “We need no allies. The armies of darkness cannot find us here. We will survive alone.”

  “But how did they find us, Torbin?” asked a young male tonnerian with sleek silver fur on his limbs, tail, and torso. “If our location is known, will others follow them here?”

  “Silence, Meeraz,” the chief warrior hissed. But the question had to be answered. He looked at Ruby. “How did you find us?”

  “The Goddess showed us the way through the forgotten aqueducts and across skies and the Biting Sands,” Ruby said. “No one can find the Oasis without such aid.”

  “I think they got lucky,” snapped a warrior near Gork. His fangs were twice the size of Nyan-Nyan’s.

  “You could say that,” Nyan-Nyan crooned softly.

  “Wait a minute.” The warrior moved past Gork with a swiftness that he had never before seen. In an instant he had snatched up Nyan-Nyan by the scruff of her neck and held her up in one arm. “Look at this . . . Hey, Torbin,” he called out. “It’s the Chaos Kitty!”

  “Oh, come on. How can you possibly know about—”

  “You seek to bring the bane of the freyjan upon us!” cried the chief warrior.

  “We seek your help,” Terras said. “The princess has found the primal breach, where the Dark Consul first passed through a portal to the Dark Realm. We have with us what is needed to seal it. But we must reach the rift alive. With your help we can seal the portal and turn the tide.”

  “Why is this freyjan among you?” Torbin said, gesturing at Nyan-Nyan’s dangling form with a gleaming gauntlet saber.

  “You don’t think just anyone can find the Desert Drop Oasis,” Ruby said with a disarming laugh. “Even the freyjan lack the luck—except this one.”

  “You call that luck?” Torbin said, pointing to the demolished statue.

  “Terras,” Ruby said, “if you please. That statue needs mending.”

  “I wield the power of the Deeproot at your command.” Terras’s eyes shone with determination. He stepped forward, put one knee down, and touched the ground with his palm.

  Green light pulsed on his wrist, sending waves of essence into the ground.

  Tonnerians in the large circular chamber leaned forward, as if expecting a large chest of booty to fall out of the sky and land on him. Nothing happened for a long moment. Then a carpet of grass sprouted along the floor of the chamber.

  Astounded tonnerians reached down to feel the downy softness of the cool green blades. The warrior holding Nyan-Nyan dropped her for a chance to run his hands through the new grass as vines erupted from the ground and coiled around the rubble of the statue. The vines twisted together, binding the broken pieces. Slowly, the giant statue of the first tonnerian king rose from the ground, like a corpse rising from the grave. The vines snapped taut as the pieces settled together. A collective sigh of astonishment rose from the tonnerians only to be interrupted by a thousand wildflowers bursting from the surface of the statue like tiny fireworks popping. Glittering pollen danced in beams of sunlight cutting through the overhead opening of the chamber as the tonnerians fell into a stunned silence.

  Terras stood and wiped his arm across his forehead.

  “Are you all right?” Ruby said, touching his arm gently.

  “Yeah. Just don’t let Nyan-Nyan near that thing again.”

  The vine on Terras’s wrist showed streaks of yellow. Gork wagered half of the Druid’s magic was already spent—and wisely so. Without the loyalty of the tonnerians, no amount of luck or magic would get them through the Blasted Tombs. But those warriors—if they were as strong as they looked—would fight like lions.

  Excited chatter passed among the tonnerians. Torbin raised his voice over the din. “They have merely repaired what they destroyed. Do not be taken by these strangers and their magic. No good will come of it.”

  “We only ask that you hold council with us. We value your wisdom and knowledge of the enemy’s doings in Arcadia. Your spies must inform you of all the Dark Consul’s attempts to recover the realm he once ruled.”

  “Hmph,” Torbin growled. Clearly the princess had made a valid point.

  “We also bring news of your cousins in the Frostbyte Reach. Legends of your fighting prowess and bravery have reached their ears. The frey
jan are on the brink of destruction. Their fate is in your hands.”

  “The ruling five will consider your offer to counsel with us.” He turned to two warriors nearby. “Corix, Meeraz, take them to the keeping place—and keep a close eye on that one.”

  Nyan-Nyan folded her arms and kicked at a clod of dirt on the ground.

  Corix had the same sandy coloration as Torbin and a similar physique but was younger and slightly smaller, with an air of self-importance.

  A son? Gork wondered.

  “You all, this way.” Corix jerked his blade-tipped forearm shield toward one of the underground washes that led from the cavern. He led the way out. The silver-haired Meeraz closed in behind the group. Not as brawny as the others, Meeraz’s eyes and ears moved constantly, taking in everyone and everything.

  Nyan-Nyan reached out to brush her hand along one of the arching rock walls through which the underground wash passed. Meeraz yanked on her tail and Nyan-Nyan’s steel claw tips swiped at open air. “Don’t touch.”

  Nyan-Nyan hissed at him.

  “We are guests, Nyan-Nyan,” Ruby reminded.

  “More like prisoners. What do you think the ‘keeping place’ is? It’s a jail.”

  “It’s a keeping place,” Meeraz said. “But try your luck and—”

  “Trying her luck is exactly what you don’t . . .” Terras trailed off. A moment later, Gork’s breath caught in his lungs as well. The wash widened into a great underground bowl. This room had a much larger opening to the sky, at least a hundred yards across. The streaks of red and yellow rock on the walls curved down to a gently sloping depression. It was dotted by patches of crops where light spilled through surface openings. In the center of the great chamber was a deep, blue-green pool. Homes with ornately carved pillars and entries were built into pockets in the perimeter walls, ringing the enormous donut-shaped cavern.

  It was an awe-inspiring scene of tranquil natural beauty, mingled with the distinct tonnerian culture.

  “Oh, that’s more like it,” Ruby said. “I had imagined an oasis needed water.”

  “Underground springs,” Meeraz said. “The Goddess has not completely abandoned this realm.” He swung his blade arm down to cordon Nyan-Nyan away from a trail that led to the water. “The sacred pool is not for swimming.”

  “Well, our pools at Felicity Springs are,” Nyan-Nyan said. “. . . If we ever get them back from the orcs.”

  “How many orcs?” Meeraz asked.

  “Hordes of them,” Nyan-Nyan said. “Too many for even the dwarves to stop.”

  “It’s not a fair fight,” Gork said. “The orcs are using weapons enchanted by the ancient runes.”

  “He’s had trouble with hair combs, too,” Terras added, drawing his hand under his chin in a chopping motion and tipping his head in Gork’s direction.

  “I was going to cut it anyway,” Gork said gruffly. “Too hot in the desert.”

  The path led to a side chamber that turned through windswept tunnel washes and oval caverns, some with openings to the sky and others shaded and cool, with stacks of food storage barrels. The trail wound, maze-like, through the supporting rock columns that arched overhead. Paths split and combined, some with bubbling springs dripping water over the edge of small pools, others following the path of the water through slick-walled sandstone. Each cavern grew more exotic than the previous as the sandstone gave way to colorful limestone.

  “Remarkable,” Gork said, taking in the colorful array of stalactites.

  “It smells funny,” Nyan-Nyan noted.

  “Sulfur springs,” Meeraz said. “They’re known for preventing wounds from festering.”

  “So everything stinks instead of just the wound?”

  “If you don’t like our home,” Corix said in a low growl, “I can throw you out.”

  “He’s actually done that,” Meeraz said as he caught Nyan-Nyan’s straying paw and kept it clear of a rock perched precariously on top of another.

  “Let go of me.”

  “Looks like Nyan-Nyan’s got herself a boyfriend,” Terras said to Gork in a low voice.

  “You do realize freyjans and tonnerians hear about five times as well as humans?” Nyan-Nyan said. She jerked away from Meeraz, but he kept her paw in his grip.

  “How do you know about the Chaos Kitty?” Ruby asked.

  “Our spies reach all the neighboring realms,” Corix said. “When the most famous bridge in the Frostbyte Reach collapses, it doesn’t go unnoticed.”

  “It was old anyway,” Nyan-Nyan said.

  “And the Hornshead Dam.”

  “That wasn’t all my fault.”

  “And the—”

  “We get the idea.” It was Meeraz that said it. It seemed to Gork he had spoken for Nyan-Nyan.

  She rolled her eyes.

  Corix passed a pair of sentries who gave him acknowledging nods and several young females who waved but were ignored by the stoic warrior.

  Nyan-Nyan changed tactics and waved her arm enthusiastically forward and backward as she walked, forcing Meeraz’s arm to swing. Gork laughed to himself, waiting to see what Meeraz would do.

  “Think he’ll just knock her out?” Terras said as he ducked under a low section of ceiling in the limestone cavern.

  Corix picked up a lantern hanging at an entrance of a section of cave and started into a narrow passage. The passage ended fifty paces later in a small room, a dead end.

  “You all stay here. Meeraz, guard the exit.”

  The silver-furred tonnerian released Nyan-Nyan’s hand. His eyes did not stray as she settled in a crouch in the corner of the room.

  “We hiked all night. I’m taking a nap,” Nyan-Nyan announced. “You don’t have to watch.”

  “Meh. You’re always up half the night chasing things, anyway,” Terras said.

  “It’s called guard duty.”

  “It’s called curiosity,” Ruby said. “And it’s your nature. We don’t fault you for it any more than we fault a wolf for hunting.”

  “I hate wolves,” Nyan-Nyan said. “. . . most wolves anyway.”

  Meeraz sat on a step near the exit.

  “Why can’t you guard us from the exit of the tunnel way back there?” Nyan-Nyan said. “There aren’t any other ways out.”

  Meeraz smiled. “Curiosity.”

  Terras filled his canteen from a drip in the far end of the room that ran into a basin. The spillover from the basin drained through a crevice in the floor that carried the sound of distant rushing water. Terras passed the flask around the room. Gork finished the canteen with several thirsty gulps, feeling strength flowing back into him. “Thanks.” He tossed the empty canteen to Terras, who began filling it again.

  The room was silent for a moment, long enough for Gork to settle his thoughts. “What are we going to tell the council?” he asked, wary of Meeraz’s listening ears turned in his direction. “These tonnerians only want to stay in hiding. They don’t care about the wider world and what happens to Crystalia.”

  “They should have been honored to have received a princess of prophecy,” Terras said. He certainly looked displeased, but Gork supposed his anger was more a result of having to use up so much of his magic to pacify them.

  Gork dropped the backpack, sat down, and loosened his boots. Conscious of Ruby standing nearby in the small room, he didn’t remove them.

  Ruby held up the slippers she had removed and lifted the skirt of her dress a few inches to show her bare toes wiggling in the cool sand. “Try it. It’s feels nice.”

  “As long as it doesn’t bite,” Gork said, pulling off a boot and finding that the dry air had kept his feet from becoming sweaty. “So, we just have to convince the tonnerians to help Ruby get to the Blasted Tombs, help me find ancient steel, and help muster an army to help the freyjans. Any ideas?”

  Nobody spoke.

  From where she lay curled on the ground, Nyan-Nyan opened a sleepy eye. “Why is everyone looking a
t me?”

  “You heard them in the statue room,” Terras said. “They only brought us here because they couldn’t kill us in good conscience and didn’t know what else to do with us. They aren’t going to volunteer to help with anything.”

  “If they won’t help us, I could try a double bubble to get us there.” Ruby sat down and leaned her back against Gork’s. “Terras has one potion left.”

  “We can’t give up because of a bunch of old fusspots,” Gork said.

  “All they care about is themselves.” Terras eyed Nyan-Nyan. “Sound familiar?”

  She pretended to be asleep.

  “Nothing to say for yourself?” Ruby said.

  “Being selfish and being independent are two different things,” Nyan-Nyan said. She rolled over to face the wall.

  Meeraz’s cool voice spoke. “It sounds like we have an expert in both.”

  Nyan-Nyan’s ear twitched.

  “You said ‘we,’” Ruby said.

  “The Desert Drop Oasis is not as big a secret as the council wishes to believe,” Meeraz said. “If the enemy has not come here, it is only because our home is out of the way and not worth attacking.”

  “I like this one,” Gork said. He tossed a piece of jerky to the warrior. “He has a brain.”

  “We all have brains, you idiot,” Nyan-Nyan said, rolling over and sitting up.

  “Figure of speech.”

  “Figure of . . . stupid saying,” Nyan-Nyan mumbled.

  “They’re right,” Meeraz said. He gave a nod to Nyan-Nyan. “The council won’t listen to a human, a half-elf, and a dwarf.”

  “And they’ll listen to me?”

  “You will decide that,” Meeraz said. “We are all chimera. We must all choose to follow either the light or the dark within us.”

  Terras gripped his wrist and looked up. “I’ve got it.”

  Gork gave him a questioning look.

  “We’ll make it a challenge.”

  Nyan-Nyan perked up. “Yeah. Tonnerians can’t resist a game.”

  Chapter 14: Council

  Many hours later, four more tonnerian guards arrived with new instructions. The council meeting wouldn’t be held until later that day. In the meantime, Ruby and Nyan-Nyan were taken to separate quarters to bathe and rest. Gork was led to an upper room in a mid-level hole, along with Terras. By the fur and markings of his hosts, they appeared to be Meeraz’s family.