by Dante King
“I don’t know about the rest of you ladies,” I said, “but that’s definitely the most diamonds that I’ve ever seen poking casually out of the ground.”
To be fair, they might not have been diamonds, but when you were looking at a cluster of clear crystals the size of birds’ eggs, diamonds were the stones that sprung to mind.
“They would make an absolutely darling necklace and earring combo,” Cecilia said, kneeling down to examine the stones more closely.
“I was thinking that they looked more like a mansion in the Bahamas and a Lamborghini,” I muttered. I looked about, squinting off down the gradually brightening corridor. “Still, it looks like there might be plenty to go around…”
“Let’s keep moving,” Enwyn said.
“I can’t take a few? No one has a spell that could cut a few out of the ground?” In reply, I received declining shakes of the head.
“Even if we could, we wouldn’t want to disturb the environment,” Enwyn said.
“Or whoever might live here,” Janet muttered under her breath.
As we progressed, the outcroppings of precious gems became more abundant. They sprouted from the otherwise perfectly smooth and unmarked stone of the passage like some sort of rash—and I had to admit, if I’d woken up one morning to find that I’d broken out in emeralds I wasn’t sure I would have been too disappointed. Sapphires, rubies, pink, and blue diamonds; precious stones popped out of the ground like glittering fungi as we neared the source of the light. I was no miner or jewelry appraiser, but what the four of us passed as we navigated that last stretch of tunnel must have been worth at least twenty, if not twenty-five, fuckloads.
“I’ve never really understood the fascination of rubies and the like,” I said to the group, kicking at an emerald the size of a golf ball. Despite my best effort, it didn’t budge from where it was growing from on the floor. “It’s always seemed to me like diamonds were just the product of the most amazing bit of marketing magic ever devised. You know, like, a two-hundred thousand dollar car is worth that much because of the time it takes to make it, the materials it is composed of, and what it can do, but a two-hundred thousand dollar diamond is just a shiny rock that someone cut into a nice shape.”
“Well,” Enwyn said, “it’s funny that you should say that because Harry Oppenheimer was one of the most brilliant wizards to go through the Academy–but maybe now is not the time.” She nodded ahead.
We had reached the end of the maze, so to speak. The walls of the tunnel suddenly disappeared. Beyond them was a vast space, lit by dim, twinkling lights that, after our time in the gloom, looked to my eyes like the floodlights in Yankee stadium. Blinking, willing our eyes to adjust, we stepped out of the tunnel and into the under-temple.
If the structure above ground had been gargantuan, this space that opened before us was just as impressive in scope.
Exactly as impressive in fact, I thought.
It became clear, within a few seconds of studying the cavern that we had entered, that this subterranean under-temple was a spitting image of the one above ground, only inverted. In the middle of the temple—below us but rising to our eyeline—where the point of the upside-down pyramid would have been, was a ginormous glowing crystal, four stories tall. It was from here that the phosphorescent light emanated, and to here that the trailing, pulsing vines led to.
“It’s a village,” I said, the words coming out of my mouth before I had a chance to vet them for sense.
I was right though. Along the stepped slopes of the inverted sides of the pyramid, caves had been burrowed into the sides of the cavern. They looked very much like the rows of houses that you’d find in any suburban village back on Earth. They even had rockeries—instead of gardens—outside some of them.
“Um, a village for who?” Janet asked.
“Or what?” Cecilia butted in.
“For them,” I said.
Bizarrely, the creatures—or people—inhabiting this enormous underground township had not been immediately discernible from the rocks, crystals, and gems that comprised their subterranean home. Once our eyes had adjusted to the comparatively bright light of the under-temple though, it became clear to me that there were figures walking about down there.
“Who are they?” I asked, my words shaded with awe.
They were the most brilliant, unique, captivating folk that I had ever seen—and that was after rocking around in a world in which elves, trolls, nymphs, and Elementals were par for the course. They were humanoid, but that was about as much as they had in common with us humans. Most, as far as I could judge were about six-feet tall, quite thin—if thin was a word that could be applied to a race that appeared to be made up entirely of igneous rock—and had skin that emulated the shine and texture of all the precious stones that we had seen on our walk down the tunnel. There must have been a thousand of them, each one glinting and glittering in the glare of the massive crystal in the center of the under-temple.
“I—I don’t believe it,” Enwyn whispered, and to my amazement I saw that there were tears in the corners of her eyes.
“What?” I asked.
“They’re Gemstone Elementals,” Enwyn replied.
“That’s not possible,” Cecilia said, her eyes round in her perfect, heart-shaped face—I had to hand it to her, shocked awe really suited her. “The Gemstone Elementals were completely wiped out in the Void Wars. That’s common knowledge.”
“I’ve never seen a Gemstone Elemental obviously,” I said, “but if I had to pick one out of a police line-up,” and I pointed at one of the stiffly walking figures marching across the level below us, “it would be the guy who looked something like that that I’d be pointing my finger at.”
“They’re very pretty,” Cecilia said, her voice sounding a little punch-drunk.
“I have a question,” Janet said.
“I’m thinking that it’s going to be the same as the one that just popped into my head,” I said.
“At the risk of sounding a bit old and hackneyed,” Janet continued, looking at Enwyn, “are they friends or foes?”
“I have no idea,” Enwyn said. “How can I know what their position is, when I had no clue that they even still existed?”
“That’s a fair point,” I said, “but never fear.”
“Why?” Janet asked me.
“Because here come a bunch of them now,” I said, nodding to our right, “and unless I’m very much mistaken, they look to be of the large, angry soldier cast.”
“Ready your vectors,” Enwyn said.
She didn’t need to tell me twice—or once, actually—my staff was already in my hands, humming with the anticipation of potential violence.
When the shining, multifaceted company of ten guardsmen were about twenty paces away, they halted. Up close, they were even more impressive than they had been from afar–and they’d been pretty fucking majestic even then. These big shiny fellas were about the same size as Rick Hammersmith, my fraternity brother, but without any of his warmth. Now that they were within speaking distance of us, I could see that they looked to be made of rock, but their skin was so encrusted with gemstones that it was hard to see the bedrock underneath. While each Elemental was as different in appearance as one human is from another, they all shared a common physiological trait: their eyes. They were the bright yellow of a hawk’s, but with pure white pupils.
I decided that, not having any idea as to what had happened to these guys and no preconceived notion as to the relationship between Gemstone Elementals and humans, I was just the man to open diplomatic relations.
“Hey boys,” I said, stepping forward, an ingratiating smile on my face and my staff held in as non-threatening a manner as possible. “How’s it hanging?”
It was after I’d opened with this that I realized a couple of things. Firstly, the Elementals were not wearing any clothes. Secondly, there was nothing in their groin regions that gave any clues as to how they were hanging or, indeed, whether they were even �
�boys’.
“You are human,” one of the front Elementals said. He was a hulking, pinkish-colored guy. His succinctness reminded me more than ever of my friend, Rick.
“You got it in one, my friend,” I said.
“No humans allowed here. No humans at all. We do not allow humans entry into this inner sanctum,” Pinky said.
I held up my hands and nodded in what I hoped was an understanding way. I didn’t much want to fight these rock people, not out of any aversion to the actual fighting part of it—I’d happily scrap it out with anyone if they gave me just cause to do so—but because they seemed to be just doing their thing and minding their own business down here. Coming from a world in which different races, genders, religions, and supporters of sport franchises were always on the lookout for ways to give or take offense at one thing or another, I found it quite refreshing.
Unfortunately, Pinky seemed to have other ideas.
“We don’t wish to cause you any trouble,” I continued, in the sort of calm voice that you use on a dog who you aren’t sure wants to lick your face or take a chunk out of your calf. “We were forced inside your excellent temple and had the door smashed behind us. All we intend to do is find our way out again, picking up a single tail from one of those Fern-tailed Cockatrices that we think are running about the place. So, if you could point us to the way out...”
Pinky glared at me from out of those mesmerizing eyes. Then he said, “No humans in. No humans out.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, feigning confusion. “Seems like we’re in limbo somewhat, aren’t we?”
Pinky looked stonily back at me. It would be no lie to say that I had never been on the business end of a stonier stare.
“You shouldn’t have come in,” he said, after what must have been some serious cogitation.
“Man, you should really put some signs up or something then. You can’t expect people to just know, can you?”
“But now that you have, you cannot leave.”
“Why not?”
Pinky uncrossed his arms and took a measured step toward me. We were still a good twenty strides apart, but the gesture was not lost on me. However, if he hoped I was going to back away, then I was glad to disappoint him.
“Because this is last sanctuary of our people,” he said. “Humans come in and we let them go, next day we have ten humans wanting our stones.”
I could see what he was getting at. Nothing breeds paranoia and skepticism like genocide.
“So,” I said, slipping my hand casually into the pocket of my jacket, “what happens next?”
“You die,” said Pinky.
I nodded and sighed. “In that case,” I said, “can you hold this for a second for me?”
And I tossed him the mana-grenade that I’d stolen from one of the trolls earlier. I’d been wanting to take it home as a souvenir for the frat boys but, all things considered, I thought it might come in handy at that point.
People—all kinds of beings—are funny things. There are some things, some instincts that just cannot be repressed, no matter what sort of world you come from. Take a camera, for instance, and walk into a room full of the meanest motherfuckers you can imagine, say that you are taking photographs for Nat Geo or Time or your local paper, and you can order them around like a bunch of school children. It’s a form of magic that only one in a million can resist.
The same can be said for catching things. Catch someone off-guard and toss them something and nine times out of ten they will instinctively catch it—even if that thing is a small bomb.
The mana-grenade went off in that spectacular fashion that I had first seen in the troll glade. Pinky was reduced to gravel, pink grit spraying in all directions as the grenade detonated. The two Gemstone Elementals behind him caught some of the impact too, though they were only blown into chunks. I doubted whether that was much comfort to them.
I’d cast a Flame Barrier to protect me from any flying shrapnel, and my shield had absorbed a lot of what had formerly been Pinky.
“Guys!” I cried, “remember that these lot are rock; I doubt fire magic is going to affect them too much.”
“It’s better than nothing!” Enwyn yelled, firing off a Fireball and catching one of the stunned Elementals in the chest. He wasn’t set on fire, but the force of her spell blasted him off his feet and sent him plowing into the soldiers behind him.
Cecilia and Janet ran up at the same moment that the Gemstone Elementals started to charge forward. It was quite a sight, the six remaining Elemental guards heading toward us like a priceless avalanche.
Cecilia waited until they were only a few steps away before she hit the frontrunners with a blast of those icy needles. The two Elementals at the front were struck across the legs and immediately frozen in place. However, the sheer weight of them meant that their bodies continued onward. With a hideous crunching sound, their legs bent the wrong way at the knee joints and then shattered.
I was already ducking under a blow from an arm that would have pulped my head like a cantaloupe. As I weaved under the punch, I conjured up a fiery hammer using my Flame Barrier spell. Another shining Elemental hand reached toward me, and I whirled on the spot, cracking the flaming hammer into the grabbing hand in a lovely overhead strike that took off the thumb. The Elemental snatched back its hand, roaring in agony. Without a second’s hesitation, I smashed the hammer into the screaming giant’s mouth and enlarged the spell so that the hammer became a horizontal disk two feet across. The expanding spell cracked the Elemental’s skull like a boiled egg and popped the top of its head off. It fell lifeless to the ground.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Janet, arms outstretched in front of her, firing thin fingers of lightning at an advancing Elemental. The miniature lightning bolts were snapping and pinging off the creature’s diamond hide like machine gun fire, chips of translucent stone flying all over the place as it was forced backward. I summoned a Storm Bolt and fired it at the Elemental and caught it plumb in the side of the head. There was no explosion sadly, but the force of the spell sent the giant cartwheeling off the edge of the step we were all fighting on. It plummeted thirty feet and smashed through a market stall.
I spun, intent on taking out every single one of these suckers if I had to, but before I could land my next blow, a voice that shook the very cavern rang out. Such majesty and undeniable power was in that voice that the limb of me and my friends—and those of the Elementals we were battling—stopped in mid-stroke.
“Cease this madness!” it roared.
I looked up.
On the step above us, looking down with a set of burning yellow and white eyes that I was sure I could have seen from the other side of the enormous under-temple complex, was a ten-foot being that I could only assume was the bossdog in these parts. Apart from being bloody huge, what really set him apart was the fact that he was built of gemstone that was so clear that I could see straight through him. He refracted light in a way that baffled the eye—like a moving prism.
“Who the fuck are you?” I said, according him my full respect.
“I am the king of this last pocket of Gemstone Elementals,” he said, in a voice so deep that it would have made Rick sound like he’d been gargling with helium. The King regarded me for a few seconds longer and then, to my surprise, he bowed.
“Welcome,” he said. “My kingdom, such as it is, is open to you.”
Chapter Eleven
I’d had a few questions zipping around my mind after the appearance of the troll shaman, but I now had plenty more fluttering about in there. The questions battled to be the first one that managed to get from brain to my mouth. However, for the time being, I prudently held my tongue. There was a quite a difference between seeming ignorant about certain things and opening your mouth to remove all doubt. The Gemstone King might have stopped his shiny soldiers from doing their best to pulverize the four of us, but that didn’t mean I was going to be his best buddy.
The Gemstone King himself led us away
from the scene of the fray, accompanied by half a dozen fresh soldiers. As we walked away from the impromptu battlefield, I glanced back over my shoulder and saw a collection of Gemstone Elementals starting to sweep up the chunks and shards of their fallen brethren. It seemed that, just like Humpty Dumpty, Gemstone warriors couldn’t be put back together again either.
We were guided through the Elemental’s village, moving down a number of ramps and steps of carved rock. The place, now that our eyes had fully acclimated to the light and we’d gotten over our initial shock, proved to be just as bustling as any other town that I had ever seen. Elementals were out and about, conducting whatever business kept these private people busy. As we passed, gold and white eyes flashed in our direction and Elementals paused in their dealings to mutter in their deep, subterranean voices.
“What a place,” Janet muttered from behind me.
“It’s so weird,” Cecilia said, “the closer I look at it, the prettier and more incredible it becomes. How often does that happen?”
It certainly was a captivating place. As all the habitations were caves—as far as I could tell—it meant that the streets, such as they were, were open and reserved mostly for commerce. I pondered on whether this colony, if that was the correct term, honeycombed out from this central main area. It seemed likely. We passed through a couple of markets where Elementals were buying and selling a host of things that I couldn’t identify. There were glowing rocks, baskets of luminescent fungus, potted mosses, and plants that moved as if they were caught in a non-existent breeze. One stall that I saw had a range of cut crystal tanks at the rear of it, housing a selection of enormous axolotls. I had to thank the good people at Nat Geo University once again for being able to make that identification.
The Gemstone King said nothing to us as he led us through the streets. He inclined his head at a few of his subjects as we walked through the glinting throngs, exchanged a word here and a smile there. For our part, we all kept our lips tightly shut. It seemed that we were of the same mind that none of us would give anything important away until we knew exactly why the King had called off his troops.
