Margaret chuckled softly to herself. For once she actually agreed with the obnoxious gnome. Kraalek hardly told them anything.
Mariah sighed, and her crystal gaze burned into Nalgene. “My good gnome,” she chided. “Take care with your words, for he has his own reasons for what he does. You would do well to tread carefully around that man.”
Nalgene snorted, but said nothing, for once not willing to jump into an argument.
“So, the Flame?” Ro prompted, eager to regain control of the conversation. Margaret studied the draconian. Always wanting to be in control, regardless of how the others felt.
What a leader.
“Fasto go to Flame,” Fasto piped in, wanting to become relevant.
Mariah studied the dull orc for a moment.
“Indeed,” she said, sweeping her eyes across the companions, her voice nothing more than a soft whisper. “The Flame is corrupted. You must take care, for the Shadow has already cast its reach, even into the Light. You are the Beacon, and there are those who would see you killed. Beware Sab —”
Mariah stopped and looked behind her frantically, as if seeing some specter of death. When she turned back, her soft face was saturated with fear.
“Go, cross the mountain pass, I will find you —” Her voice was cut off and she went stumbling back, grasping desperately at her shoulder. Before the companions could react, she disappeared in a brilliant column of flame, leaving not a trace.
The companions sat shocked for a moment, not quite sure how to react. The Flame was corrupted? Sab? They could only guess. The only thing they knew for certain was the absolute terror in Mariah’s eyes before she disappeared into the blazing inferno.
“Well, let us be hopin' that she actually shows up,” Nalgene grunted while staring at his crystalline bottle, and running it through his rough hands. “Unlike the other who be tellin' us that.”
The companions did not have the heart to argue. And so, they stared at the smoldering fire long into the black night, until they each succumbed to the gentle caress of exhaustion.
♦♦♦
Margaret awoke to the cold light of the dim sun shining from the far eastern horizon. Scratching the back of her neck, and the ghastly scar that was branded across it, she sat up. She was not proud of the scar. It had meant she had failed. She had lost the fight. Ro had to save her, and that just did not sit well with her. She strove for independence. Any help she received clashed against her naive morals. Growling to herself, she gazed at the others.
The rest of the companions were still sound asleep by the cold ashes left by the fire. Shrugging, Margaret stood up, stretching her aching muscles. Sleeping on the hard stone did little good to any of them. But that was the least of her worries. Her arm pulsed like strokes of thunder, and Margaret was surprised she had even been able to fall asleep.
She clenched her fist, and gritted her teeth, and tried to force the horrible pulsing away, with no effect. Her thoughts drifted back to Mariah the night before, and the warning she was trying to impart to them. Margaret chuckled to herself. If only the fiery woman had cut straight to the point, instead of droning on about how lost they were.
What a guide.
Even still, she could not so easily dismiss the vague warning. The Flame was no longer safe, of that Margaret was sure.
Was it ever safe? From Osann to Erus, where would it end?
Margaret growled, warning away the uncomfortable thoughts. She looked back to the others, who were still sound asleep at the mouth of the mountain pass. Many days ago, she would have rushed at this chance in her grand quest for freedom, abandoning the others and braving the dark world on her own. But the more she traveled alongside the others, the more she realized that was not an option. There was no freedom in this barren world. Just the flitting ghosts of her imagination.
Margaret growled again, deeper this time, and she took a step away from the others, wanting to prove her own thoughts wrong. But before she could take her second step, a gentle hand grasped her shoulder, stealing her resolve and holding her in place. Frustrated, Margaret whipped around, only to find the smiling face of Fasto before her.
“Fasto help friend,” the dim orc stated proudly, still holding her shoulder.
Margaret wanted to shoot something back, but she hesitated, and the biting words fell flat in her mouth.
Friend?
That was a thought. For over the two years she had been with the companions. Not once did she ever think of them as friends — merely pawns in her life. She thought back to her hesitancy to abandon them, but shook her head frantically, desperately trying to rid herself of the thought. No. She had learned never to trust friends. She glanced back to her demonic arm, a dark scowl on her face. Much good friends had done. She shuddered at the memory, and she wished that it was one of the ones that had been forgotten.
But still Fasto held her, a beaming smile spread wide across his face. He would help his friend. Margaret pushed his arm away, and stalked back to the camp, where the others were finally waking.
What an idiot.
Gathering their wits and their thoughts from the tragedy of the previous night, the companions began their long and treacherous trek through the winding mountain pass. At some points the passage was wide and comfortable, with protective walls rising high on both sides. Other times it was narrow and dangerous — even a slight misstep would lead to a quick and fatal plummet into a jagged ravine. And all around them there was no end to the mighty mountains — the vast range stretched endlessly in every direction. The companions’ feet ached from the hard stone, yet still they pushed ever onward, wishing to be free of the claustrophobic mountain pass.
As the sun was setting on the first day in the pass, the companions noticed a strange, bird-like creature flying high in the cold, gray sky. As they watched the creature soar across the sky, it opened its sharp beak and released a horrible, hammer-like sound that echoed off the mountain faces and cut deep into the companions, driving them down in a vain attempt to escape the dreadful drumming noise.
“What twisted mind created that bloody creature, eh?” Nalgene grumbled to himself, still cowering from the thunderous hammer noises.
Yet as quickly as it had come, the strange bird-creature was gone, leaving behind a gnawing silence. Margaret stared at the sky for a moment, trying to make sense of what she had just seen. But before she could ponder too deeply, her demonic arm flared to life so intensely that Margaret wished to smash it against the sheer rock face of the mountain. But the pulsing held her in check, imprisoning her in its dreadful beat.
Suddenly, a mighty quake rocked the mountain range, shaking the very cores of the towering mountains, as if answering the hammering noises. The companions scrambled about, desperately trying not to be thrown from the treacherous pass. But then it was gone. The mountains sat still. Yet Margaret’s arm still pulsed, and she knew it would not be the last earth-shattering quake.
As the next couple days passed, the companions trudged along the pass, weary of the endless gray labyrinth about them. No more quakes threatened to tear the very ground from beneath them, but that gave them little comfort. They wanted to reach the end of this winding pass, and soon.
On the fourth day of their precarious journey through the mountains, the companions found themselves against the sheer face of a rising mountain to the east side of the pass, and a sharp cliff falling far to the west. The path was cracked and worn, and it seemed that it would crumble and fall into the opening abyss at any moment. But the companions had to cross it, and so they braved along the path. Fortunately, it was quite wide, so there was no real threat of plummeting to their deaths, but even still, the companions eyed the chasm with a wary trepidation. As they were crossing, a second quake hit, shaking the mountain and sending crumbling bits of the pass falling far below.
The companions cowered against the rock wall for protection, praying for their safety. Yet as the mighty quake was quieting, a massive boulder came soaring from the far end of
the pass, crashing into the ground behind them. A deafening crack echoed through the mountains, and the path behind them collapsed into the darkness below, blocking any chance of retreat.
Still recovering from the second quake, Margaret stumbled to her feet, searching for the source of the boulder. Her eyes locked on the far end of the pass and opened wide with panic.
Standing like a hulking reaper of death was a zombie giant, its dead eyes thirsting for fresh blood. Twisting muscles and tendons hung in tatters around its body, yet strength rippled through the hulking monstrosity. It took a stride forward, its very step sending another quake thundering through the mountains.
A sickening roar echoing from its gaping maw, the giant began to charge the companions, eager to feast upon their flesh.
Her arm raging wildly at her side, Margaret clenched her black fist. Her power had some uses. Roaring in return, she charged at the giant, a shard of ice already forming within her grasp.
Behind her, the others readied themselves for the oncoming juggernaut. Ro had unsheathed his sword and was quickly following behind Margaret. Andromeda had already disappeared, no doubt seeking to flank the rotting monster. Nalgene and Fasto remained at the back, with spells of water and white arrows already streaking toward the zombie. SmibSmob had not turned to his darkness, fearing another wild outburst. Instead he turned to his pointed hat and was busy digging through its expansive folds.
Margaret did not notice anything that was happening behind her. Her focus was solely on the charging giant. A feral battle-cry escaping her lips, she met the hulking beast head on, her black fist jabbing the icy shard into its rotting leg.
The giant did not even notice. Its hand came crashing down, sending another small quake through the crumbling pass, but Margaret was long gone. Sprinting behind the giant, the raging orc brought her fists to bear, and unleashed a mighty barrage of punches into the giant’s left knee. Bits of gray flesh and tendon were torn from the zombie’s knee, and a spray of black blood washed over Margaret.
Oh, how she loved that.
A wild look in her eye, she spun in a tight circle, an icy hammer forming within her grasp. With a sickening crunch, the hammer slammed into the weakened knee, and the rotting hulk buckled under the impact, falling to one knee.
But it was hardly out of the fight. Indeed, it seemed more enraged than injured. So, with terrifying strength, the zombie balled its fist, and punched the very mountain face at its side. It had more luck than Nalgene against the mountains.
A mighty shock wave thundered through the cold stone, and bits of loose rock and debris began crumbling down the mountain side, leading a barrage of boulders that quickly followed.
Caught off guard, Margaret could barely dodge the hail of falling stones. By the time the rock slide had ceased, the zombie giant had reclaimed its footing and was towering over the other companions, ready to crush them into oblivion.
Fasto unleashed a hail of streaking arrows, but it had little effect on the hulking creature. Nalgene’s water fared better, and every swirling orb or streaming spray tore chunks of flesh from the rotting abomination.
Yet still it continued its relentless attack.
Andromeda had managed to scale the undead giant and was tearing at its mighty shoulders and neck with her halberd, a wild gleam in her toxic eyes. Ro darted between the legs, and was slashing away at the beast’s ankles, desperately trying to fell the vile giant. And then there was SmibSmob, whose foul luck had only produced a coiled rope from his pointed hat.
Margaret growled. She would decimate this beast. Charging back into the fray, she raised her black fist, another shard of ice forming in her grasp. With a flick of her wrist, the shard went soaring at the giant, sinking deep into its rotting back.
Again, it did not even notice. Undead cared little for pain.
But before Margaret could conjure another shard, the giant reached down with surprising speed and grabbed Ro in its iron grasp. The draconian tried to escape, but the rotting fingers held him as surely as a massive vice. With a guttural roar, the giant turned and hurled the draconian at Margaret!
Acting purely on instinct, Margaret just managed to duck the oncoming projectile. Ro crashed into the ground with a bone-crunching thud, and rolled another twenty feet down the pass, where he lay quite still. But Margaret was so lost in her demonic pulsing, she did not even turn to see if Ro was alive.
Unconcerned, Margaret scrambled back to her feet, and rushed at the giant. She darted between the stomping legs, and whipped about, an icy ax in her grasp. The frozen blade buried itself into the giant’s shin, releasing yet another spray of black blood across the crazed orc.
She licked her lips. Delicious.
She was about to call upon another icy ax, but at that moment, one of Nalgene’s orbs came soaring above her, crashing into the giant and sending it stumbling back a step. Margaret pondered for a moment, a brilliant strategy forming in her mind.
She turned, seeing the gnome raising another swirling orb high above his head. Perfect. The moment Nalgene released his mighty spell, Margaret called upon her devilish arm, casting its vile power out to the oncoming orb.
The mighty sphere froze, and crashed into the giant, causing severe damage with its frozen edges. Another rain of black blood poured forth from the giant, and its eyes shot down to Margaret, eager to be rid of the small pest.
Margaret smiled. It would not be that easy. She turned back to Nalgene, and she found him staring at her with a look of genuine respect. He glanced down to his gnarled hands, then back up to the frenzied orc. Perhaps they were on to something. He smiled.
Raising his hands, Nalgene unleashed a streaming jet of swirling water at the giant. Margaret did not hesitate. Her demonic power reached out, freezing the oncoming spear of water. The giant did not stand a chance. The massive spear crashed into the undead creature — nay, through the beast, and shot far beyond, crashing into the distant mountain face with a brilliant shower of ice.
But it would take more than that to fell the rotting gargantuan. Reaching up, it tore Andromeda from its shredded shoulders, and slammed her onto the ground like a limp rag doll. Margaret could only watch as the feline thudded into the ground, no doubt shattering her bones. The giant turned, its hollow eyes seeking vengeance. Margaret was next.
She did not run. For that was weak. She would fight. She formed another icy ax with her demonic arm, but it was too late. The giant shot forward, ripping her into the air. Margaret felt the crushing grip of the hulking monster. Her ribs screamed in protest, and her head grew faint. Even the pulsing of her arm seemed distant to her.
Before she could hope to escape, she went soaring into the air. She felt alive. She felt free. Yet she knew she was about to die.
Margaret turned in the air, desperately trying to orient herself. The whole world was spinning. And so, she fell, off the sheer cliff and into the vast chasm below.
Suddenly, a rush of water surrounded her, and instinctively, her demonic arm shot out, an icy nova freezing all the surrounding water and creating a frosty platform for her to stand upon. Shaking her head, and trying to regain her senses, Margaret was able to make out the small form of Nalgene high up on the pass, a relieved look on his face.
But the giant towered behind him. Margaret called out a warning, but she knew it was too late. The giant reached down, eager to slaughter the defenseless gnome. But as the rotting hand reached down, a twisting beam of shadow crashed into it, knocking it away from Nalgene.
SmibSmob had finally joined the fight.
Tendrils of shadow wrapped about the undead giant like the mighty tentacles of a kraken, and swirling orbs of darkness rained down upon it, driving it back and away from Nalgene. The area grew dark, as if the very light was being devoured by a shadowy god. The very mountains shook under the brilliant, and terrible, display of power. Margaret could only image the horrible display of the dark power, which mocked even her demonic arm.
Still, she stared up at the form of Nalg
ene, who now held something in his hands: a coiled rope. The one that SmibSmob had pulled from his hat. She shook her head, at a loss.
Trying to ignore the chaos behind him, Nalgene tossed the rope down to Margaret, urging her to climb back up, and quickly. For the darkness was already diminishing. Growling, Margaret rushed up the rope, scaling the cliff face with reckless abandon. She had to get up to the fray.
Her arm pulsed.
All thoughts fled from her mind. She only had one focus.
The giant.
She reached the pass, a frenzied look twisting her face into a barbaric mask of rage. Her fists raised before her; Margaret rushed at the hulking creature. She did not notice that the overwhelming shadow had disappeared, and that SmibSmob now lay helplessly upon the ground, with Nalgene desperately trying to protect his frail brother. She did not notice that Fasto sat crumpled against the face of the mountain, blood dripping from his shattered face. She only had one focus.
The giant.
She darted between the undead giant’s legs, dodging its futile attempts to grab at her.
The giant.
Her black arm crashed into the giants already weakened knee, shattering it and sending vile gore raining upon the ground.
The giant.
She unleashed a barrage of rapid punches at the giant, not caring where she hit. She only wanted to hit and feel the thick blood upon her fists. But the giant swatted her aside. Margaret went soaring back, only to crash into the rock face behind her. Her head cracked against the hard stone, and she felt blood pouring down her body. Not the giant’s blood. Her blood. And it only enraged her more.
The giant.
Shrugging off her injuries, she shot forward, a bloodthirsty gleam burning in her eyes. And Nalgene was beside her, charging at the giant in a final assault. This was it. There would be no other chances. The gnome raised his hands, and a mighty tsunami surged forward, washing over the giant.
A Land in Shadow Page 20
